


Something Concrete

by Akyo_Shiawase



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Language, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2020-10-29 07:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akyo_Shiawase/pseuds/Akyo_Shiawase
Summary: The original Van Der Linde family was Dutch, Hosea, Susan, Arthur and John. And that little girl with no name they found one night, alone and surrounded by death in a forest. Nobody knows where she comes from, not even her, but she doesn't care about that, she's happy with her new enlarging family. Until the events of Blackwater bring part of that past up and she'll finally decide to investigate on her origins.





	1. Prologue

That was going to be a stormy night. While the sun was falling behind the mountains, dark clouds approached the small group traveling on the bare path, all around them only the curt sound of the horses' hooves against the rocks.  
The man leading the group lifted his hat's brim and looked at the sky, then addressed his partner. «We should start looking for a shelter, Dutch. Those clouds don't look too good».  
«Yeah, you're probably right», the other man agreed adjusting the collar of his jacket around his neck. He turned around on the saddle to look at the two boys following him. «Keep your eyes open! We're looking for a shelter now!»  
The older boy nodded in response while the other kept moving forward with his chin stuck to his chest, his face hidden under the large hat. «Hey! Is little John sleeping, already?», Dutch asked, amused.  
The young man at John's side brought his horse closer to his and quickly reached out a hand, squeezing the boy's shoulder and growling loudly in his ear. John jerked up like he had been stricken by a lightning and almost fell off his horse. He looked around frantically for a good ten seconds before recognizing the man next to him and immediately started to insult him. «Fuck you, Arthur! You sack of...»  
«Watch your language, young man!», a female voice interrupted him.  
Susan, moving at the end of the group, looked really angry at both of them but Arthur couldn't care less, too busy laughing his ass off. John just grumbled, annoyed.  
«Alright, everyone calm down! You've already fought enough for today», Hosea sighed, tired of having to calm those two down too every five minutes.  
After riding for another quarter of an hour, maybe more, Hosea spotted a light coming from a woodland not too far from their position and the group decided to head there, sure they would have found a little cottage or a campfire. But they did not.

As soon as they entered the small woods, it was clear that something strange had happened in that place. «Dutch», Hosea called looking at the ground, «have you seen the grass?»  
«Looks like a bear had fun here», his friend replied referring to the blood covered green.  
Susan tightened the grip around her rifle. «Disgusting. Be careful, boys. I have a bad feeling about this».  
Advancing more into the forest, surrounded by blood dirtied plants, they found a lantern laid down on the ground and, scattered around the lantern, there were the mauled bodies of five men. «Dear God! This is horrible!», Miss Grimshaw exclaimed, covering her mouth with her gloved hand. Whilst she preferred to stay on her horse at a safe distance, the rest of the group jumped off their mounts and got closer to the bodies, trying to figure out what had happened.  
Arthur knelt beside the nearest dead man, that was lying prone on the ground, and rolled him over. Like the others he was wearing a long dark coat and, underneath that, some rather fancy clothes. «Somebody stabbed them to death», the boy ascertained looking at the deep cuts strewn all over the body, from the abdomen to the face. «Someone rather angry».  
«But they don't seem to be missing anything», John said searching inside the others' pockets. «They still have their money and valuables».  
Hosea hummed loudly while scratching his chin. «Maybe some Indians attacked them and stole their horses. If I'm not wrong, there's an indian reservation not far from here».  
«Well, maybe we should find another place for the night». Susan nodded at Dutch's suggestion and made her horse turn around, ready to go.  
«We finally agree on something, Mr Van Der Linde».  
The men left the bodies there and returned to their respective horses. They climbed onto them, getting comfortable on the saddle, but when Durch ordered his gang to move a high pitched sound startled them all.  
«Did you hear that?», Dutch asked hopping off his horse once more.  
Hosea looked around, trying to identify origin of that noise. «Yes, probably a wild animal. It's better if you don't get too close, Dutch».  
«No, no, no, no! It wasn't an animal! I swear I heard a voice!»  
Dutch walked slowly back to the bodies, holding his breath, until he heard another sound coming from behind a tree. «Is someone there?»  
Much to everyone's surprise, a faint voice replied. «N… No...»  
It sounded like a child.  
The gang watched in silence as their leader approached the tree, holding his hands up in a sign of peace. «Don't worry, we don't want to hurt you. Come out here», he tried to get the child to come out of her hiding place but she didn't want to listening to him.  
Miss Grimshaw decided to get off her horse and try herself, knowing that usually a woman's presence can be reassure for a child. «Don't worry, honey. You're safe now, we're here to help you», she said in her most soothing tone. Finally a small figure appeared from behind the tree and Miss Grimshaw had to hold back a gasp when she saw the state that little girl was in.  
She was covered in blood from head to toes, her little dress was completely soaked just like her long raven hair. Her big black eyes were wide from fear and she was holding a knife in her trembling hands. Dutch walked up to her and knelt down, so that he could be at her same level, holding out a hand and gesturing for the child to give him her weapon. «It's alright, you don't need this anymore. We're nice people». The girl looked at them one by one, studying them before reluctantly handing the knife to the man. «Miss Grimshaw, would you help this poor girl?»  
The woman acted right away, wrapped a blanket around the child and picked her up, lifting the small body on her horse before climbing behind her.

While they were taking her away from that place, the child was firmly holding the knob of the saddle with her hands, staring emotionless at it. «You're not telling me that this little kid killed those guys, right», Arthur asked looking back at the gory scene behind them. «That's impossible».  
Riding side by side with Susan, Dutch was watching the girl thoughtfully. She was obviously shocked. «Hey, girl? What's your name?», he asked quietly.  
She looked up at him with such a great confusion in her eyes and Dutch had to repeat his question. Understood what she had been asked, the child started twisting her hands nervously. «I… I don't…»  
«You don't have a name, Miss?»  
«I don't know», she answered sadly and for a brief moment she went back to staring knob, then she turned around to look at that bloody place they were leaving behind. She touched her temple like she had got an headache and murmured something.  
«What did you say?», Dutch asked her, gently.  
«_Concrete..._», she repeated, earning a confused look from everyone. «They called me _Concrete_».  
«Well, that's an interesting name. Nice to meet you, Concrete. Welcome into the Van der Linde family».


	2. The Stormy Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Van der Linde gang has to flee from Blackwater after a heist gone wrong but the mountain weather seems to be against them.

«You should've stayed with the others, this storm is getting worse every minute», Arthur addressed the young woman riding beside him, shouting to overcome the sound of the wind.  
«I've been through worse. Besides...», she rebutted and shifted towards him on the saddle. «I didn't like the idea of leaving you alone with that guy. I don’t like him, that rat face».  
«I heard that!», Micah grumbled from the head of the group but the girl didn’t even listen to him.  
Arthur as well shifted towards the other and tried to keep his voice down as much as the wind let him. «Yeah, I don't like him either. I don’t know why Dutch wants to keep him with us». Getting closer to her, he could hear her teeth shatter. He turned to her just in time to see her body being shaken by an evident shiver. «You okay, Concrete?»  
«Oh, I told you I'm fine! Don’t worry, big brother», she replied, mildly annoyed. Right at that moment a gust of wind hit them, taking away with it the woman's hat. «Ah, shit!»  
«Damn, you're so unlucky today», Arthur laughed it off.  
With nothing to shield her face from the storm, Concrete raised an arm to protect her eyes from the flying snowflakes that were now sticking in her raven bob cut while the two long, thick locks she had let grown from her temples started dancing frantically in front of her nose. Arthur thought she had always had very strange tastes and would often mocked his younger sister for all those crazy haircuts and she managed to create for herself. She didn’t mind, though. Actually, she liked being the gang's weirdo, found it funny. Not that the others were much more normal than her, anyway.  
«I'll go scout ahead», Micah announced kicking the sides of his horse, «try not to miss me too much». In an instant the man had disappeared into the fog, leaving the other two alone.  
Dutch had sent them to find a place for the gang to stop and rest for a while. They were all tired after days of running and Davey was gravely wounded, he probably wouldn't survive. Arthur had his mind busied with the thought of their dying friend when Concrete spotted a building a few meters ahead of them and spurred her blond shire horse. Her brother yelled at her to slow down but she was already galloping away.  
She arrived at an abandoned village with some rotten wooden shacks, many of them already collapsed. Not the best place to live in but still better than spending another night outside on a wagon. «Arthur, what do you think?», she asked hopeful at the man that had just caught up with her. He quickly studied the place before pulling the reins of his horse and make it turn around.  
«I think it's good enough. Let's head back now, I'm getting tired of all this snow».

They met the rest of the gang halfway. «Arthur! Any luck?», Dutch asked getting up from his seat on the first cart of the line.  
«We found a place where we can get some shelter. Let Davey rest while he…», he said, his tone getting sadder with the last sentence, «you know».  
«An old mining town, abandoned, it’s not far», Concrete concluded pointing in the direction of the site. Then, while Arthur led the convoy to the old town, the girl reached the last wagon and began to ride behind it. «Tilly, how is he?», she asked, referring to the man lying inside there. Tilly was sitting next to him, trying to cover him with a blanket as best as she could.  
«Not well, I'm afraid. He's having a hard time breathing, now», she said, giving her friend a sorry look.  
Concrete’s gaze dropped down on her lap. «I see...»  
The whole gang remained quiet until they reached the small bunch of huts and everyone immediately started getting ready to put up the new camp.  
First of all, they took Davey off the wagon and brought him inside the nearest shack where they placed him on a table. Then Miss Grimshaw started organizing the gang's next movements, giving orders here and there like a real sergeant. «Miss Gaskill, get that fire lit quick. Miss Jones, bring in whatever blankets we have. Mr Pearson, see what we've got in terms of food».  
Concrete approached Abigail, who was bent over Davey's body, and asked her about his conditions. The woman straightened her posture, sighing loudly as she turned to the rest of the gang. «Davey's dead».  
There room went dead silent, Concrete looked down at the body on the table and a new wave of sadness washed through her body. She pulled two coins out of her jacket's pocket and placed them on the dead man's eyes. «Well, there was nothing more you could have done», she attempted to comfort the other women. «You did good».  
Hosea entered the shack in that moment with Dutch. «What are we gonna do? We need supplies», he wondered out loud.  
His friend looked thoughtfully at the people around him. «First of all you're gonna stay here and get yourself warm», he told everyone. «John and Micah are scouting out ahead. Arthur and I, we're gonna ride out and see if we can find one of 'em».  
«I'll come with you!», Concrete announced walking up to them, determined to do everything she could to help her family. Dutch didn’t object just because he knew that would have been useless, that girl could be more stubborn than a mule when she wanted to.  
On the other hand, Arthur was surprised by his leader’s decision. «In this?», he asked referring to the storm outside.  
Dutch shrugged at him. «Just for a short bit. I don’t see what other choice we have». Then he turned to the whole gang and asked for their attention. Everyone gathered around their leader, quietly waiting for him to talk. He looked at them one by one and took a deep breath. «We all had… Well, a bad couple of days». He took a long pause, directing his glance to the lifeless body in the centre of the room. «I loved Davey. And Jenny. Sean, Mac… They may be okay, we don’t know. But we lost some folks». He was right, in just a few days they had lost too many people and Concrete missed them all. She looked up at her brother with sad eyes and he placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. «Now, if I could throw myself in the ground in their stead I'd do it. Gladly», Dutch continued, more serious than ever before. «But now we're gonna ride out and we're gonna find some food. We have the best hunter of the States here with us», he said moving closer to Concrete, replacing Arthur's hand with his own. «And you can trust she won't let us down. She never had. And nobody will follow us through a storm like this, we're safe. Mr. Pearson, Miss Grimshaw...»  
Both of them took a step forward, ready to listen to their boss' orders. «I need you to turn this place into a camp. We may be here for a few days», he told them, then addressed to the whole gang once more, articulating each word with sure pauses. «Now you, all of you, get yourselves warm. Stay strong, stay with me! We ain't done yet!»  
Having said that, he turned swiftly to the door behind him and opened it with a rapid movement, letting the wind blow some snow inside the hut. He took the lantern placed on the cabinet beside the entrance and walked outside. «Come on, Arthur, Concrete».

«Well, we ain't run into them yet. So, they must have headed down the hill», Dutch supposed, holding the lantern up above their heads. Concrete shut the door close behind her as she walked outside, adjusting the the rifle on her back. «Hey, father…», she called him, wrapping her arms around her body to protect herself from the cold. «We didn’t have time to ask before but what really went down back there on that boat?»  
It was since their messy escape from Blackwater that she and Arthur had wanted to ask him but Dutch didn't answer as they hoped. He gave her a light pat on the head and looked between her and the other man. «We missed you two, that's what happened. Now, come on!»  
He headed to where they had left the horses but Charles was already bringing them their owners. The three of them jumped onto their horses and Dutch had to convince Charles to go back inside to rest his hurted hand before they could trot away.  
Concrete was worried about her other brother, John, and would have rushed ahead to look for him if it wasn’t for the fact that she was the only one without a lantern, so she had to stick next to Arthur for the whole time. «Ain’t sure what we’re gonna find out here, Dutch», he shouted throw the wind, doubting it was a good idea to stay outside with that storm, but of course Dutch had no intention to give up. He always did his best to not let his gang down and he never had. That’s why Concrete felt safe following him.  
«We have to try», he shouted back. «Stay close, we’ll do our best to stick to the trail. Concrete!»  
The girl’s head darted up at the sound of her name. «Yessir?»  
«You’re the best one at following tracks here. Keep your eyes open».  
She nodded energetically to show she had understood, even though Dutch couldn’t see her behind his back. «Of course! I’ll let you know if we are distancing from from the trial».  
«This goddamn weather!», Arthur clicked his tongue, struggling to keep his hat on his head, and Concrete tried to reassure him.  
«It’s been at least two days now. It should be over soon».  
«I sure hope so. Now, let’s go!»  
They spurred their horses and moved faster through the deep snow, now almost reaching the animals’ knees. Even though the snow was deep, the occasional picket fences and creaky wooden bridges made it quite easy for the girl to identify the path and her mind started wondering at some point. When would they have been able to go back to Blackwater and retrieve the money? Not that she cared that much about it. Knowing that most of the gang had made it out of there alive was enough for her, but Davey and Jenny had died for that money and they couldn’t let their sacrifice be in vain.  
She came back to herself when Arthur moved next to Dutch and they both raised their lanterns before themselves, having spotted someone on the track in front of them. She stood up on the stirrups to look over the men’s shoulders that were obscuring here view. For being a twenty years old woman she was, in fact, still rather short.  
Further ahead, she could see a light advancing towards them, followed by a man’s silhouette. When the man identified himself, Concrete couldn’t help but roll her eyes. «Yey, Micah survived!», she exclaimed, sarcastic. Dutch was about to tell her off but Micah stopped him.  
«It’s no use», he said, «that wild cat hates my guts. You should hear how she talks to me when you’re not present». On the other hand, Arthur huffed amused at her snide comment. «Found a little homestead down thataway», Micah reported. According to him someone was having a party in that house and Dutch suggest to go and check that out. He hadn’t seen John though, which made Concrete even more worried.  
They left the main track and followed Micah through a small land of pines now white from the snow and up a hill where the horses struggled to climb up. From the top of the hill they could see a small farm with just one house and a little barn, lights enlightening the whole place. After the men had snuffed and stashed their lanterns, the group cautiously headed down there. As they got closer to the house, they could hear music playing from inside and the joyous voices of many men celebrating but Concrete could sense something was wrong in that place.  
They left the horses at a hitching post a little further from the farmhouse and Dutch order the other two guys to go hide somewhere. «One lonely man and a girl are a lot less intimidating than three nasty looking degenerates», he said.  
Arthur quickly went to hide behind a shed at the house's side while Micah crouched down next to a broken cart, loaded with an unknown cargo that had been covered by a sheet. Dutch and Concrete approached the house from the front, hardly dragging themselves through the snow. Holding the light high over their heads, he told the girl to keep calm and moved her hand away from the holster on her belt. «We don’t want to alarm them», he reminded her, «pretend to be just a little, scared girl. Just for a moment, please». She would have felt more safe with her guns ready in her hands but listened to him nonetheless, grasping the sleeve of his coat in mediocre impression of a damsel in distress.  
When Dutch called for the people inside the house, the music suddenly stopped. After afew seconds, a man with a very angry face came out of the door and asked them what they wanted. Dutch tried to explain their situation to the man but he didn’t want to listen, telling them to go away. Then, another man appeared from the other side of the house, a rifle in his hands. Concrete was already about to take out her weapons when she heard her brother whisper anonymously with Micah behind them. With the corner of her eye, she saw Micah holding up the sheet that was covering the cart and it was only at that moment she recognized a human form underneath it. «Wait, I know you that face», the man in front of them told Dutch in a menacing tone, laying a hand on the gun at his side, «you’re that damn Van der Linde!»  
She acted fast, pulling out her revolvers and shooting those men before they could make a move. Dutch cursed and grabbed her arm, dragging her behind a nearby crate. «Shit, it’s the O’Driscolls!», he cried out peeking over the edge of the wooden box. Shortly after, five other men ran out in the snow and the firefight began. After putting the revolvers away, Concrete took the rifle hanged on her back and laid down on the ground, aiming at the two guys standing on the porch. Her shots were clean and she killed them one by one with a single bullet to their foreheads. «Yeah, that's my girl, Concrete! Good shooting!», Dutch complimented her as the other bandits fell under his and his partners' shots, but suddenly her attention was caught by one guy running towards the barn.  
«There’s one running away!», she notified her boss before standing up and running after the guy, obviously without waiting for her boss’ order.

She ran after him but when she entered the barn, the man seemed to have disappeared. Looking around she saw nothing but the scared horse in the stall, until she heard something moving above her head. She looked up just in time to see the the man jumping off of the upper floor and onto her, sending them both on the ground. «You killed my cousin, you bastards!», he yelled trying to climb on top of her but she kicked him away before he could get any closer. «You damn bitch! I'm gonna snap your neck!»  
She jumped on her feet and punched the guy's face, making him wobble back and almost lose balance. He tried to hit her back but she easily blocked his fist with her forearm and stuck her knee to his stomach.  
When Dutch arrived to barn, he found the O'Driscoll laying on the floor, his face covered in blood and trembling, with an angry Concrete sitted on top of him and holding him by the collar of his jacket. «You alright, girl?»  
«This guy jumped on me!», she sounded very offended. Dutch watched the scene with a hint of amusement in his expression.  
«Oh, did he now?»  
«Should I kill him?», she asked, but Dutch wanted her to find out about Colm O'Driscoll first. She raised her fist, ready to interrogate the guy, but he had already had enough of her beating and immediately spit everything out. «An old mining camp southwest of here, near the lake...», he squealed, protecting his face with his arms, «he's there with the others!»  
Concrete raised her fist higher. «What are they doing up there?», she boomed out the question.  
«We’re fixing to rob some train, gonna blow the track. I don’t know more than that, I swear!»  
«Well, I would say it looks like you have this, girl», Dutch said and turned away, heading back to the house. «Do what you want with him. Just take that horse with you when you’re done».  
The O’Driscoll almost shitted his pants when he was left alone with that woman, tears started forming at the corner of his eyes. «No, please! Let me go! I beg you».  
Concrete wanted to kill him. She was about to, actually. Every O’Driscoll let free would have been one more problem to add to the list in the future, but when she put her hands around his neck she just could tighten the grip enough to choke him.  
_“Damn it… again”_. It had always been like this. She could easily annihilate an entire army without batting an eye but when she found herself face to face with a whining, armless guy she couldn’t help the annoying feeling of guilt rising from her chest.  
She sighed and stood up, letting the incredulous man go. «Run before I change my mind». As soon as she said that, the O’Driscoll was out of the barn running for his life into the storm and Concrete could give all of her attention to the horse.

When she returned to the house with their new horse, there was quite a commotion coming from inside and she could hear woman screaming.  
_"A woman?”_  
She called for the boys and Dutch immediately called back for her. «Concrete, come quickly in here!»  
The girl left the horse there and ran inside, coming across an overly excited Micah chasing a woman around the table. «Micah, what the hell are you doing?», she yelled angrily at him and tried to grab him from his belt but he escaped her grip when he jumped to the side, dodging the flying plate that had been thrown at him.  
«I wasn’t doing nothing», he excused himself, continuing to chase the woman. «She’s one of them O’Driscolls». They tried in vain to stop him and when he eventually got tired of running around the table, he just took it and threw it out of his way, making the lantern that was placed on it fall and break on the ground, starting up a fire. Dutch managed to grab him and push him back to Arthur, who held him still, and carefully approached the terrified woman together with Concrete.  
The lady grabbed a knife from the nearby shelf and looked ready to attack but Dutch reassured her. «It’s alright miss, you’re safe now», he told her, but she was still too scared to let her guard down. Concrete took a step closer and reached out a hand, slowly.  
«Don’t worry, miss. We’re here to help». The woman looked between that tiny girl and the man before her, appearing both angry and confused, until Concrete lightly pushed down her one hand holding the knife and proceeded to gently touch her shoulder. Only then, her stiff posture relaxed a bit and she allowed them to throw a blanket on her back and lead her out of the house that was now burning down.  
Once outside, Arthur helped the woman on Concrete’s horse. The girl mounted behind her, so she could hug and comfort her all the way back to their new camp. «What’s your name, miss?», she asked, letting her tiredly rest her head on her shoulder.  
«Sadie. Sadie Adler… my husband, they...»  
«It’s alright, Sadie», she reassured her, spurring her horse. «We’re taking you to safety».

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who have read the first chapter/prologue of this story. I'd now like to use this space for a couple of dumb clarifications. Nothing important but still something I'd like to explain:  
1) Concrete's haircut is based on that of the character Hairu Ihei from Tokyo Ghoul. I wanted to let you know because I wasn't sure I could describe it well enough and it kind of annoyed me.  
2) She's called "Concrete", meaning "real, tangible or pragmatic"... not the building material.
> 
> Thank you again and please let me know if you notice any mistakes in the text. English is not my first language and I may do some mistakes at some point.


	3. Bandits In the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concrete leaves the camp to go hunting for the gang and ventures in a forest, where an unexpected encounter takes place.

It was nice to be able to sleep on an actual bed after all those nights spent on a wagon, even if the straw mattress made her skin itch and the light blanket didn’t protect much from the cold.  
When she opened her eyes, Concrete found herself facing the wooden wall and it took her a moment to remember that she was no longer on her old cart. «Uhm… Arthur?», she murmured, turning around under the sheets to see the empty sleeping bag on the floor and realized she had overslept.  
The daylight was shining bright through the dirty windows, blinding her, and the birds singing outside announced a sunny day but the girl still didn’t feel like getting up, so she hid her head under the covers and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, the bed was old and creaky and her movements made enough noise to alert the people in the next room.  
About ten minutes later the door opened and Hosea was peeking inside the bedroom. «Are you still in bed?», he asked surprised. «I thought you wanted to go hunting today».  
Concrete pulled the blanket down enough to uncover her eyes and stared back at man tiredly, letting out an annoyed grumble. «Come on, lazy bones!», he said leaving the room. «Get up before your coffee gets cold».  
Yawning, she forced herself to sit up on the bed and threw her feet over its edge, put on her leather boots and dragged herself to the living room. Hosea was waiting for her, seated on a chair in front of the fireplace with a steaming cup in his hands. «Here», he said handing her the cup. She took it and sat down next to him, sipping her coffee without hurry.  
«Are you finally awake, girl?», Dutch asked from his seat near the window. He was looking outside pensively while smoking one of his favourite cigars.  
The girl nodded. «Yes, I think so. Did John come back last night?»  
She hoped to see him again before leaving the camp but, apparently, her brother was still missing and Arthur had gone looking for him with Javier early in the morning. Disappointed, she sighed and got up to wash her cup, then returned to her room to get ready for the hunting trip.  
Usually, a satisfying hunt lasted more than one day, especially when having so many mouths to feed, so Concrete expected to be away for a while. She took a jute sack and filled it with canned food, blankets, her sleeping bag and a change of clothes, then said goodbye to Dutch and Hosea, who gave her their usual recommendations, and left the hut.  
Once outside, she looked around for her horse. «Aaron!», she called out loud and the animal immediately appeared from the other side of the building, neighing as if to greet her. The girl threw the sack on its back and told it to wait there, then headed to another shack.  
«Good morning, Concrete», Mr Pearson saluted her when she arrived at the small hut that had been turned into a kitchen. «Are you here to take some salted offals for your hunting trip?»  
Looking at the offals on the counter, Concrete held back a disgusted groan. «No, thanks… I wanted to see if we still have some tea and biscuits».  
«No biscuits. But we have some rice cakes if you want them».  
The cook prepared her a cup of tea, placed it on a tray with some rice cakes and gave everything to the girl, who thanked him and walked to the next hut, where the women were reunited.

Entering the hut, she was welcomed by a depressing silence, broken only by Miss Adler's restrained sobs. Concrete walked up to the table in the corner of the room where Sadie was sitting with Mary-Beth and Karen and placed the tray in front of her. «You didn't eat anything yesterday», she said softly. «Would you like some tea?»  
Sadie looked up at her, confused and tired, and Concrete thought that she probably didn’t understand what she had just told her.  
She pushed the tray closer to the woman, who reluctantly picked up the cup in her hands. «Yeah, thank you», she thanked her in a monotonous, fleeble voice.  
Seeing she was obviously still shocked, Concrete decided to not disturb her any further and left, hoping she could talk more to Sadie in the future.

Outside the shack, she bumped into Charles, who was leading both her and his horse somewhere. «Charles, where are you taking Aaron?»  
The man turned around and gave her a big smile. He had two bows hung on his shoulder. «Concrete, are we ready for the hunt?»  
The girl crossed her arms on her chest and raised an eyebrow. « “_We”_? What about your hand?»  
«I can handle that. Here», he said, taking a bow and giving it to her, «this is for you, to replace your old one». He had heard that the huntress' bow broke a couple of weeks prior, during an accident with a wild boar, and had been working on a new one for her since then.  
She took it carefully in her hands, as if she was afraid of breaking it, and tried to pull its string.  
It stretched perfectly.  
«Thanks Charles, you didn’t have to… but I’m afraid I can’t let you come with me», she said apologetically. «Dutch says you should rest and my trip will last at least a couple of days. That may be too much for you».  
The man rolled his eyes in exasperation. «Oh please, not you too», he sighed.  
Concrete rubbed her neck, feeling slightly awkward. Charles was a good friend to her and she understood that he was tired of doing nothing all day, but they couldn’t risk to overwork him when he was still healing.  
«Well, why don’t you teach Arthur how to use a bow when he comes back?», she suggested. «He said that he was interested in learning how to use one».  
«Alright», he gave up and handed her the reins of her horse, «I’ll see what I can do. Have fun for me too, out there».  
Concrete jumped on her mount and spurred it to trot, waving at the man behind her. «Of course, Charlie. See you in two days!»

The huntress descended the mountain for at least an hour before she could find a spot with enough vegetation to hope for some good preys. The landscape looked completely different now that the storm was gone, so peaceful and picturesque like the pictures on those artistic postcards she used to collect when she was younger, and she was happy to leave the main path and ride towards the beautiful woodland located not far from there.  
After tying her horse to a tree at the limit of the woods, she took her new bow and ventured between the tall pines. The snow creaking under her boots made it difficult to be stealthy, so she had to move very slowly and for the first few hours she didn’t find not even a rabbit.  
She kept wandering around the forest until she found a trail of prints in the snow. _“A deer. And a big one!”_, she gasped, already preparing the bow in her hands.  
Concrete followed the tracks, staying low on the ground so to be even less noisy, until she found a big male deer biting away the bark of a small, battered tree. Hidden behind a spruce, at a safe distance, she took out her binoculars to better study the prey. Its fur didn’t look good enough to create something with it but its meat would have made a good meal for the gang.  
She put the binoculars away and took an arrow out of her quiver, positioning it on the bow. Holding her breath, she stretched the string and evaluated the best trajectory for a fast kill, finding it right when the deer noticed her presence and turned towards her.  
When she released the bowstring, the arrow rapidly drew a light arc in the air and stuck between the deer’s eyes. The animal let out a low bellow and fell to ground, dirtying the white snow with its blood.  
«Nice shot!», the girl complimented herself and ran up to her prey. She knelt down beside it and made sure it was dead, then pulled the arrow out if its forehead.  
With her hunting knife, she skinned the deer and cut off its antlers, rolled everything up into a bundle and tied it with a rope, then brought it back to her horse which huffed at her sight. «I’m here, Aaron», she said throwing the bundle on its back. «Now come with me».  
The girl untied the reins from the tree and led the horse to where she had left the deer. The carcass was large and heavy but Concrete was a strong woman and with a bit of effort she could lift it on Aaron’s back. «Alright, my friend. Let’s see if we can find something else», she petted its muzzle and was about to walk away when a sudden commotion reached her ears, coming from the other side of the forest.  
She immediately tensed up, hearing different male voices shouting and laughing across the woods. Her first thought was that they were probably just a group of hunters or bandits and that it would have been better to ignore them and return quickly to the camp, but then she was assailed by the doubt that those men could have been Pinkertons or bounty killers and decided to go check on them.  
She tied her horse to the nearest tree branch and pressed her index finger on her lips, telling it to stay quiet before heading to the source of the noises.

Getting closer to the opposite limit of the woodland, she could hear more and more clearly the voices of at least three different men. When she arrived at the base of a little hill, she heard the sound of a glass shattering coming from the other side and someone yelling.  
«I told you to shut up, you stupid kid!»  
Concrete climbed upon the hillock and from its top she saw five men sitting around a newly built campfire.  
She hid behind a fallen tree and studied the area. There was only a couple of tents, with the horses hitched nearby, nothing that could indicate whether or not those men could have been a danger for her gang but, judging by their clothes and not so elegant attitude, they couldn’t be lawmen.  
Her eyes moved across the camp, scanning the surroundings, and it was at that moment that she noticed a sixth figure, kept away from the others.  
Her heart skipped a bit.  
There was a boy tied up to a tree. The raven hair that covered his face was matted and sticky with mud and blood, all around him were fragments of a broken bottle. His clothes were also covered in dirt and soaked from the snow he was sitting in, ripped off in some parts. From time to time, he tried to get up on his feet but always ended up slipping and falling back down in the snow, earning an annoyed look from the men.  
«Damn it, kid! How many bottles do I have to waist on your head before you calm the fuck down?»  
«Just try to ignore him, Jim. My uncle always said these redmen have a thick skull».  
One of them stood up and stretched his arms, yawning. «So guys, what are we gonna do with him?», he asked, adjusting the blue bandana around his neck.  
His partner, a man with a long black beard, scoffed and pointed at the boy. «Seriously? Did you get a good look at him?»  
The other looked at the kid and turned up his nose. «Yeah, I have to admit that he has a pretty face but, y'know...», he said and sat down again, «I think he would have been prettier if he was a girl».  
«Who cares about what you think!», the bearded one shouted, throwing his arms up to the sky. «You know what that kid is? A real. Indian. Prince! We just have to sell him to one of those perverts in Saint Denis and we'll become fucking rich!»  
Concrete's face contorted in a disgusted expression. «Those pigs…»  
She held back the urge to blow up their heads right there and then and, sneaking behind the trees, she reached a bush near the boy’s position.  
She had to do something.

The boy’s head darted up when a snowball hit his leg, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the woman and she could now see his face was covered in fresh cuts. Pressing a finger against her lips, Concrete shushed him. «Stay calm, I’m here to help».  
For a few seconds, he kept looking between her and his kidnappers, then his gaze fixed on her. He pressed his lips together and nodded firmly.  
Concrete slid behind the tree and cut off the ropes that were tying him before pressing her knife into his hand. «Wait for a moment. I’ll try to distract them», she whispered into his ear and, moving like a shadow, she reached the other side of the camp. There, she pulled off her jacket and left it in a shrub with her bow and her belt, took her revolvers in her hands and hid them behind her back as she walked up to the group.  
«Help… please», she made her voice crack while she limped towards the men. They all jumped up on their feet immediately, hands at their guns, but relaxed after seeing it was just a girl. They looked at each other and their expressions shifted from confusion to mischievousness.  
«Well, well… What’s a little girl doing up here all by herself?», one of them asked, stepping forward.  
«They took me from the town… Please, untie my hands». Her acting skills had never been good but luckily those guys weren't very smart.  
The man smiled and got closer to her, reaching out a hand. «Sure thing, sweetie. Come here».  
At that moment, the men heard a lament coming from behind them and turned around to see the native boy sinking a blade into the neck of their bearded partner. Concrete promptly raised her guns and shot the two in front of her before they could react.  
Jim and "_Bandana",_ still alive, were paralyzed, looking between her and the boy in shock until she pointed her weapons at them and they started running desperately towards the woods. The girl managed to take out Jim but then one of her pistols misfired and Bandana ran away.  
«Shit! Wait here, I’ll be right back!», she told the boy and ran after the bandit.

The man seemed to have completely dissolved into thin air but Concrete could still sense his presence. She advanced in the snow paying attention to every sound around her, trying to find out his hiding spot, when suddenly she heard something moving behind a large trunk without foliage. «I heard you», she said, getting closer to the plant. «Come out and maybe I’ll let you live».  
The girl moved around the trunk and found nothing but an empty leather flask on the ground. «What? Hey, where are you?»  
She turned around just in time to see the man jumping onto her, dragging her on the ground with him. She found herself lying face down in the snow with the man sitting on her back while holding tight her left wrist, in an attempt to make her loosen the grip on the gun.  
«You little monster!», he yelled at her and, from the corner of her eyes, Concrete could see the fury in his face.  
He bent her arm behind her back and tore the revolver away from her hand, pointing it at her head. Her heart started pounding in her chest and she was ready to get him off of her with a thrust of her back, but then something heavy landed on the guy’s head.  
Concrete saw the man tensing up, his eyes rolling in the back of his head, then falling down in the snow. She immediately stood up and turned around with a jump, seeing the native boy kneeling on top of the man that was now lying unconscious on the ground, holding a big rock in his hands. He raised the rock high over his head and Concrete could have sworn there were flames burning in his eyes.  
With a scream, he lowered the stone on the guy’s head. It emitted a disturbing creak and blood started flowing from the wound that opened on the forehead but the boy didn’t stop, he kept swinging the rock on the man’s head, crying out desperately. «This is for my sisters, you bastard! You filthy pig! Die!»  
«Uhm, hey… I think he’s already dead… You can stop, now», Concrete weakly tried to calm him down, astonished by all that violence, but he seemed to have lost his mind. He kept raging on the dead man, screaming in a language the girl couldn’t understand.  
«Hey! », Concrete jumped forward and grabbed his arm, trying to hold him back. «Calm down! You’re disintegrating him!»  
The scary look he gave her was enough to pull her back but seeing the girl made him come back to his senses. His furious expression slowly relaxed as she approached him again, holding her hands up in a sign of peace, and he let the bloody rock fall on the ground. Panting, he tried to say something, his whole body sagging as the adrenaline faded away, but the words that left his mouth were incomprehensible to her.  
«You know you’re speaking Lakota, right?», she made him notice, tilting her head.  
«Eh? Oh, right… Sorry». The boy stood up with difficulty, letting the woman support him as they headed back to the camp.

An hour later, Concrete had brought her horse to the small camp in the woods and was now sitting on a rock near the fire, next to the tired boy. «Are you alright?», she asked, watching him as he touched the bandages wrapped around his head. The boy sighed.  
«Yeah, it's just a scratch. I'll be ready to go in a minute».  
«There's no need to rush things. You can stay here a bit longer if you don't feel good».  
He was in a hurry to leave that place and go back to his tribe but Concrete could see that he wasn’t in a condition to embark on a journey.  
She watched as his hand moved from the bandages to a matted lock of hair that hanged from his left temple. He felt it between his fingers and gritted his teeth, inveighing against the dead bandits under his breath. Looking closely, the girl realized that that lock was in fact what remained of a little braid that had been cut off and, seeing how angry he looked, she shifted closer to him and put her hands in his hair.  
The boy freaked out a little at her touch and tried to pull back. «What are you doing?»  
«I’m making you a new braid», she answered like it was the most natural thing in the world. «They cut it, didn’t they? I’m sorry… but maybe I can fix it».  
He was about to say something but then decided to shut up and let her do what she wanted, too tired to argue. He just looked away, visibly uncomfortable with the other’s closeness.  
«So, what’s your name?», she asked after a moment, undoing the old ruined braid.  
«Eagle Flies», he answered, keeping his eyes on the fire before him.  
«You too? You Indians really like eagle related names, uh?», she joked but the annoyed look the boy gave her made her regret that comment. She cleared her throat and started working on the new braid. «Sorry, I was just joking... Actually, it's a nice name», she said mildly embarrassed.  
«Sure… What about you?», he asked looking back at the fire. In the meantime, the braid wasn’t coming off as the girl hoped so she undid it and started another one.  
«My name's Concrete, nice to meet you».  
The boy looked at her again, raising an eyebrow. «_Concrete_? That's a strange name for a white woman».  
She giggled, agreeing with him. It took her some minutes to complete the braid but the result was quite satisfying.  
After that, seeing the light and ruined clothes the boy was wearing, Concrete got up and went to retrieve her sack from the horse. When she came back, he was holding his new braid before his eyes, twirling it between his fingers. «I'm sorry, I'm not very good at braiding», she said sitting back down next to him, rummaging in her bag.  
«It's fine. Thanks».  
He looked surprised when the girl threw a blanket on his back and thanked her once more, starting to relax. When Concrete dared to ask how he had ended up getting caught by those criminals, the flames reappeared in his eyes, his fists clenched around the blanket's fabric as he told her how those criminals had been wandering around his reservation for at least a month. «When they showed, the girls of my tribe began to disappear. We knew it was their fault, those bastards… but the soldiers that were supposed to watch over the reservation refused to help. I had to do something».  
Concrete felt sorry for him. She knew it wasn't rare for the native girls to get taken away from their tribes, sold out to brothels, and she understood his anger. «I'm sorry. You don't need to tell me anything if you don't want to», she spoke softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
When he looked at her, she could see the flames in his eyes extinguish into a sorrowful fog. «Well… there’s not much to say», he continued, adjusting the blanket on his shoulders as his gaze fell on his lap. «I saw them trying to sneak into the reservation and decided to confront them. And they caught me, that's all».  
Silence fell again upon them. Concrete looked at the deer's carcass tied on her horse's back and thought she was better bring it back to the gang before it started to rot, but she didn’t trust to let the boy, injured and tired, go back to his reservation alone.  
She scratched her chin, wondering what to do. «Is your home far from here?», she asked him.  
«A couple of days on horse, if you ride fast».  
_“It’s not that far…”, _she thought, _“And the gang will survive another couple of days without me”._  
In the end, she slammed her hands on her thighs and stood up all of a sudden. «I've decided!», she yelled, startling the boy who looked at her with an extremely confused expression.  
«You have decided… what?»  
«To take you back home», she said bringing the sack back to her horse. «I was supposed to hunt for my family but I’m sure they won’t mind waiting».  
The boy also stood up and tried to dissuade her. «But if your people need food you should bring it to them. I’ll be fine on my own», he protested but, after taking only one step, dizziness caught him and he fell back on the rock.  
«Sure, you’ll be perfectly fine», Concrete replied sarcastic, lifting the deer on her shoulder and bringing it next to the fire, where she let it fall in the snow. «Those assholes really beat the shit out of you. You’re too weak to stand up, let alone ride a horse, and you’ll need to hunt something on the way if you don’t want to starve».  
She knelt down besides the animal and took out her knife, skewering it into the fresh meat. «My friends don’t expect me to come back any time soon, anyway. And there’s another good hunter with them, so they don’t risk to run out of food. Right now, you need my help more than they do».  
She raised her glance on the boy and had to hold back a giggle at the sight of his pouty face. He didn’t seem too happy at the idea of having someone to take care of him.  
Reaching out a hand, she gave him an affectionate pat on his leg. «C’mon! Tonight we’re gonna eat venison steaks and then go quickly to sleep. We’ll have to wake up early tomorrow».

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, from now on some chapters may contain references to the Lakota Sioux culture. As much as I love the Sioux culture, the fact that I'm not part of it means there's always the chance that I'll make mistakes.  
I'll try to write the native characters of this story as best as I can but if you think I wrote something wrong, feel free to let me know. I'm always happy to learn.
> 
> Talking about this chapter, I honestly don't really like how it came out, I think I could have done better. I don't know...


	4. The Impetuous Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After saving him from the traffickers, Concrete accompanies the young man home but he turns out to be more hotheaded than she thought.

«There! Can you see it?», Concrete shouted excitedly, pointing at the small town standing between the green hills of the Heartlands. «We're almost at Valentine!»  
«I see. So we're near Fort Wallace», Eagle Flies replied in a much calmer tone.  
When the girl helped him on one of the bandits’ horses, the previous morning, he was still in pain and spent most of the day sitting quietly on the horse’s back, bent tiredly over its neck. Even when they camped for the night he wouldn’t say nor eat much and went straight to sleep.  
Now, he was already sitting upright on the saddle and looked much more alert.  
«I know the way from there. You don't need to accompany me to the reservation».  
«Oh no, I can't!», Concrete said, sounding like an apprehensive mother, «I can't leave you alone when you're this run-down. What if something bad happens on your way?».  
«But your people are waiting for you», he tried to dissuade her but the girl was impervious to reason.  
«I told you they're gonna be fine», she insisted, not doubting for one second that Charles and Arthur would have managed to take care of the gang without her. «Right now, you need my help more than they do».  
The boy sighed heavily and bent backward, placing a hand on the horse's back to sustain his weight. «Guess I'm not getting rid of you anytime soon, then», he said with half a smile.  
Hearing his resigned tone, Concrete turned to look at him with a worried frown. «Am I annoying you? I'm sorry».  
«No, not really», he replied calmly, closing his eyes as he faced the sun and raised a hand to touch the ugly bruise that had formed on his left cheek. «I’m grateful for your help. I wish I could reward you properly for that but mine is a poor tribe, we don’t have much to give you...»  
«I don’t need anything», Concrete interrupted him, smiling gently. «I helped you because that was the right thing to do, not for a reward».  
Eagle Flies stopped staring at the sky and moved his gaze on her, squinting his eyes as to look for any sign of dishonesty. «Are you serious?»  
«Of course I am!», she yelled. «What? You don’t trust me?»  
«Well», he shrugged, «it’s the first time an outlaw helps me without asking for something in return. Furthermore, I’ve only known you for a day and a half. It’s a little too soon to trust anyone».  
The girl pouted, looking back at the city before them. «Yeah, guess you’re right», she said, mildly disappointed by his lack of trust.  
Her annoyed face, with the blown out cheeks as she snorted, had her looking terribly like a child, which made the young man scoff with amusement as he returned to face the sky.  
«Anyway, you’ll have to discuss that with my father. I’m sure he won’t let you walk away without a reward».  
Still looking forward, Concrete scratched her chin as she thought out loud. «Those guys called you a “Prince”, so your father must be a chief… right?»  
«Yes, that’s right...», the boy tiredly confirmed her assumption, trying to relax for a moment in the heat of the sun rays but the girl was already back to her playful self.  
«Well then, your majesty, are you ready to enter the town?», she asked him, kicking the sides of her horse to make it trot faster.  
Eagle Flies turned to her with a extremely confused face. «Your… majesty?»  
He didn't get the chance to investigate the strange moniker any further, thoguh. They were almost in town.

They entered the small city from a side road, passing by the enclosures of sheep and pigs that wandered peacefully in the mud. A dog ran barking between Aaron’s legs and Concrete bent down to shoo it away.  
The people walking on the main street stopped whatever they were doing as soon as they saw the strange pair entering the city, staring shamelessly at them and particularly at the boy, who reciprocated with hostile glances.  
When they passed the city’s saloon, a pleasant smell reached Concrete’s nose. She inhaled deeply the aroma of what seemed to be spiced meat and her stomach started to rumble loudly. «Hey, Eagle...», she called him pulling the reins, stopping her horse in front of the building. «Aren’t you hungry?»  
The boy stopped next to her and briefly peeked inside the saloon through the open windows. «It’s _Eagle Flies_. And no, I’m fine».  
«Are you sure? We’ve been riding all day, you must be tired. I’m sure a hearty meal will do you good», she said, giving him a sly smile.  
Eagle Flies tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. «Are you trying to use my physical condition as an excuse to get in there and order something?»  
Facing away from him, the girl snorted. «Damn, you’re such a killjoy», she complained spurring her horse. «Let’s stop by the doctor, at least. We need to have you checked out».  
Moving toward the clinic, Concrete could hear her friend muttering something about how “unbelievable” she was for trying that trick on him but she didn’t complain. She had it coming, after all.  
Some metres further, the two youths dismounted from their horses and tied them to the hitching post in front of the doctor’s office. When his feet touched the ground, Eagle Flies groaned in pain and Concrete was immediately at his side.  
«You okay?»  
«I’m fine», he reassured her and let out a low growl while stretching his back, which emitted some distinct popping sounds. «Just let’s be quick. I don’t like all this... “civilization” staring at me».  
As they climbed the steps that led to the office’s door, three men sitting outside on the porch had their eyes glued on them, almost turning their heads to one hundred and eighty degrees to not lose sight of them.  
Eagle Flies gave them a brief menacing look before he felt Concrete pulling his sleeve. «Staring back at everyone like that won’t make them stop», she told him opening the door. «Stop before you enrage someone».  
The boy grunted in annoyance, muttering again as he followed her inside shop.  
The bell hung above the entrance rang, drawing the doctor’s attention who turned to welcome the newcomers from behind his desk.  
He wasn’t the only one in the room, though.  
The man that was bending over the counter was large, tall and big like a bear, with a thick red beard and a noticeable baldness that made his forehead look way higher than it actually was. When the two youths entered the office, he turned to greet them together with the doctor but the way his expression changed after seeing the boy gave Concrete a bad feeling.  
When the man went back to talk with the doctor, she got on her tiptoes to reach Eagle Flies’ ear, managing to only barely reach his shoulder. «Please, no threatening looks with that guy», she whispered. «We don’t want to start a fight with him».  
Not only that. She was an outlaw on the run, she had a bounty on her head after what had happened in Blackwater and she needed to lay low if she didn’t want to be recognized.  
Eagle Flies didn’t reply, he just crossed his arms on his chest and turned to face the display rack at the right side of the entrance, pretending to be looking at the medicine bottles exposed on it.  
«May I help you, miss?», the doctor asked gently after dismissing the previous patient, gesturing for her to come closer.  
He was a short man with an elegant brown mustache and small eyes, narrowed as he smiled at the girl.  
Concrete walked up to the counter and bent over it, pointing at the boy behind her. «Yes, please. My friend here needs a check... », she started to explain but a loud whang immediately interrupted her and she rapidly turned around to see what had just happened.  
On his way to the exit, the bear-man had bumped into Eagle Flies and sent him to crash against the display rack, making all the bottles on it stagger dangerously. «Out of my way, redskin!», he said walking away, not affected by the collision at all.  
Holding onto the shelves, the boy recovered his balance and straightened his posture before pointing an accusatory finger at him. «Maybe you should watch where you’re going, you fat donkey!», he yelled angrily.  
The man, who had already placed a foot outside the shop, stopped in the middle of the entryway and slowly turned around. Concrete felt her hair stand up on the back of her head as the he put his narrowed eyes on the younger man.  
«Did you say something?»  
His low, raspy voice could have made shiver even the bravest of the men but the boy didn’t back up. He stood still where he was and kept challenging him with his gaze.  
When the man stomped toward Eagle Flies clenching his fists, Concrete threw herself between the two of them, much to their surprise. «I’m sorry, sir. My friend can be really clumsy sometimes. I’m sure he didn’t intend to bump into you», she stuttered out quickly, raising her hands before her in an attempt to calm him down.  
«Oh, really?», he said sarcastically, taking another step forward. «In that case I’d be glad to slap some clumsiness out of him».  
It was at that moment that Concrete could have swore to see the doctor literally fly over the counter before magically appearing between the two youths and the other man, using his whole body to shield them.  
«C’mon, Paul, leave him alone. He’s just a kid, recklessness is normal at his age».  
The bear-man looked at him and turned up his mouth, then he looked back at the boy. After a moment of tense silence, he grunted and turned around, heading to the door. «Fine», he spit out, «I’ll let it go for once. But only because I don’t want to make a mess in my friend’s office».  
Then, he closed the door behind his back and disappeared.

When the man closed the door behind his back, both Concrete and the doctor sighed in relief. «Thank you, sir. You really saved us», the girl thanked him but he raised a hand to stop her, reassuring her that there was no need to thank him, then he moved his gaze on the boy and his features suddenly hardened.  
Eagle Flies’ provocative expression immediately disappeared when a finger started waving under his nose.  
«Listen here, young man», the doctor started in a very serious tone. «I understand that being pushed and insulted by a boorish idiot isn’t nice but did you really think it was a good idea to start a fight with that big guy? Especially when you're in these conditions», he scolded him, pointing at the bandages still wrapped around the boy’s head. There was a fresh new blood stain on them.  
«You are old enough to understand when it’s time to shut up. And don’t look at her when I’m talking to you!»  
Concrete knew she shouldn’t be laughing in a moment like that but her friend’s face was definitely a sight funny to see.  
As the man kept telling him off, the boy that just moments earlier was acting like a hardened warrior was now starting to look more and more like a helpless child and Concrete thought he had probably never been scolded much in his life.  
When he looked at her in confusion, she had to turn away to hide her smirk.  
«Ah, whatever!», the doctor concluded his angry monologue and walked up to a chair next to the counter. «Come here, kid. Sit here».  
Eagle Flies lingered for a moment before going to take a seat. The man made him lay back against the slightly sloping backrest and started to carefully remove the bandages. «Alright, young man», he sighed. «Let’s take a look at this wound».  
The blood that had coagulated was sticking to the white fabric, making the removal quiet painful but the boy didn’t emit one sound. He just pressed his lips together and stared at the ceiling.  
«Did you hit your head on something? No, wait... This is a cut», the doctor mumbled more to himself than to his patient. «I’ll have to clean it up and give you a couple of stitches. How did you get it, kid?»  
«Traffickers. They caught me...», he answered tight-lipped. «Since our custody passed to those shitheads of Fort Wallace, they seem to have multiplied».  
«Damn, you’re quite a foul-mouthed kid, aren’t you?», the doctor said taking the boy’s chin between his fingers, making him turn his head from side to side to study the many minor cuts on his face. «But you’re right. Colonel Favours and his men are certainly not nice people».  
He walked behind the counter and disappeared under it. He re-emerged after a moment with a little bottle and some gauzes in his hands and went back to his patient.  
«I’ve heard they took some kids away from the tribe last month, sent them to a reform school». Sighing, he poured some liquid on a gauze and pressed it on Eagle Flies' head, who was looking at him curiously.  
Concrete herself was surprised by what the doctor’s knowledge. «You know about his reservation’s situation?», she asked. «That’s strange. Usually, folks from here don’t care much about the natives' problems».  
«They don’t care about white people’s problems neither, as long as they don’t concern them directly. They’re all farmers and bigots», he replied, a hint of melancholy in his voice. «It’s really sad».  
Even if the disinfectant poured on his wound burned like fire, Eagle Flies was doing his best to remain concentrated on the conversation, naturally interested in hearing the doctor’s opinion about the situation on his reservation but the man suddenly turned around.  
«Excuse me, now», he said placing the dirty gauzes on the counter and walking to a door at the back of the room. «I need something to stitch you up».  
As soon as the door closed behind him, noises of cabinets being opened and closed frantically, glasses colliding and swears started coming from the shop’s backroom.  
Eagle Flies and Concrete turned to stare at the door’s direction. «This man is really… particular», he commented in a low voice.  
«I guess. How do you feel?»  
The boy brought a hand to his forehead and felt it, then the hand moved slowly toward the little braid hanging from his left temple and he started twisting it between his fingers, an action Concrete had seen him repeat many times in the past two days.  
«I’m fine, now. You don’t need to worry any further».  
«You sure?»  
«Yes… and I’ll be even better when I’ll get back home».  
After the quick exchange, silence fell upon them as they waited for the doctor to come back. Concrete started pacing around the office, observing the collection of medicines and tonics exposed on the many shelves until she ended up next to the counter and her eyes fell on a stool placed behind it. On top of it, there was a pile of papers, drawings of some strange looking wagons that the girl picked up.  
The first one looked like the drawings for a huge cart pulled by two couples of horses that could be enlarged by opening it in half, with two snakes twisted around a cane as a decoration for its top. Another drawing showed a much smaller cart with a couple of horses to pull it, its back opened like a drawbridge. The rest was just a bunch of unfinished doodles.  
She was still concentrated on the projects when a hand suddenly appeared in front of her and tore the papers from her hands. «What are you doing, miss?», the doctor asked, placing the sketches back on the stool.  
«Sorry, I was curious», she said, not even bothering to make up an excuse. «What are they? Are you planning to become travelling doctor?»  
The man grabbed her by the arm, firmly but not too hard, and pulled her away from the counter. «You two are quite the couple», he sighed exasperated, going back to Eagle Flies who was observing the scene from his seat. «One is a suicidal fool, the other doesn’t know the meaning of the word “privacy”».  
After another deep sigh, he took the suture string he had in his hand and passed it through a curved needle. «Yes, I’m planning to create a mobile clinic. It’s always been my dream, I think. Travel around the country to help those in needs… Saint Denis’ dirty suburbs, the poor mountain villages, the Indian reservations… There are a lot of people out there who don't have access to a proper medical care. Now stay still, kid», he warned the boy, inserting the needle in his scalp. The youth’s expression flinched only a little but he managed to keep his stoic look as the doctor worked on him.  
«Unfortunately, I’m rather poor myself and I still can’t afford both the wagon of my dreams and some good draft horses».  
«Maybe I can help you», Concrete replied without thinking.  
The doctor scoffed, still focused on his work. «Really? How?»  
«Don't know», she shrugged, «but I'm sure I can find a way to help if I think hard enough».  
The man let out a short giggle and, with a swift motion of his fingers, cut the suture string, announcing the end of his work.  
«Oh, don’t worry about this poor fool. I’ll find a way to save enough money for my dream, one day», he said, gesturing for the boy to get up as he moved back behind his counter. «So, do you need anything else?»  
«Actually, yes», Concrete answered, pointing at the shelves behind him. «I’d like to buy some medicine. My little nephew seems to have caught a bad cold recently». Then she touched her pockets and a disappointed expression appeared on her face.  
«What’s wrong, miss? »  
«I forgot my money in the saddle bag», she mumbled. «Eagle Flies, could you?»  
The boy gave her an annoyed look, crossing his arms on his chest. «Go take the money for you?»  
As the girl nodded, he turned on his heels and quickly heading to the door, mumbling something under his breath. «Is he always that angry?», the doctor asked after the boy was gone and pulled out a box from underneath his desk. Concrete shrugged.  
«I don’t know, I’ve only met him two days ago. He’s not bad, though… just really wary», she explained, looking down at all the medical products stored inside the box.

It didn’t take her much time to find everything she needed. The doctor wrapped the small bottles up in a newspaper and placed them on the counter.  
«Here you go, miss».  
Concrete reached out a hand and moved the wrap closer to her. «Thank you, mister…?»  
The man bent forward in an overly elegant bow, gaining a giggle from the girl. «Doctor Joshua O’Brian, at your service», he introduced himself and pulled a small card out of the pocket of his gilet.  
Concrete took the card and mimicked him, bowing gracefully. «Pleased to meet you. I’m… Charlotte Kilgore», she lied, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor, knowing well that her horrible acting skills would have betrayed her if she had looked at him in the eyes. «If I’ll ever need a doctor while I’m around, I’ll make sure to visit your shop».  
«It would be a pleasure, Charlotte. By the way, where is your friend? He should have been back by now».  
Concrete turned to the window at her left and took a look at the street outside. As Mr. O'Brian made her notice, Eagle Flies was taking too long to come back.  
Excusing herself, she picked up the medicines and left the shop. Outside, both Aaron and the other horse were still hitched at their place but the young man was nowhere to be seen, so Concrete put the purchased drugs in her saddle bag and started to look around for him.  
She walked down the main street calling out for her friend, not minding the confused looks the people around her were giving her. When she passed by the saloon, the girl heard quite a commotion coming from inside the building and she stopped in front of it, taking into consideration the idea of going to see what was happening in there. She was about to place foot on the saloon’s porch when a body flew out the door.  
Concrete cursed and jumped back, avoiding it by a hair’s breadth as it fell heavily on the ground and she immediately recognized the person slipping in the mud while frantically trying to get back up on his feet.  
«Eagle Flies, what the hell are you doing?», she asked concerned, but a big man with a red beard bursted out of the saloon and launched himself on the boy, who managed to move out of his trajectory just in time.  
The man’s knees touched the ground for a brief moment before he jumped back up like a spring. He and Eagle Flies ran toward each other screaming and, thanks to his bigger size, the man managed to throw the kid again on the ground.  
«Eagle Flies, stop that! You’ve just been treated!», Concrete yelled, waving her arms in the air, but nobody was paying attention to the girl as the town folks gathered around the fighters.  
The two rolled in the mud until Eagle Flies ended up trapped under the man’s body. He tried to hit him from below but his position didn’t favour him and he couldn’t reach the target. On the other hand, for the bear-man it was very easy to reach the boy’s neck.  
Concrete squealed when she saw his hands wrapping around her friend’s neck and she rushed next to them, stretching a leg behind her when she was close enough. «Let him go, you bastard! You don’t want to see _me_ angry!»  
Obviously the threatening didn’t work and the man tightened the grip on the boy, whose face was starting to change its colour, and the girl proceeded to let her foot descend upon his head.  
The kick was hard enough to unbalance the man and get him to fall off Eagle Flies’ lap. The boy quickly sat up, grasping at his throat as he struggled to breath and Concrete grabbed him by his shoulder. «Let’s go. Now».  
With unbelievable ease, the girl pulled her friend up and pushed him towards the horses just a moment before the bear-man appeared behind them and grabbed Concrete's wrist.  
When he tried to pull her back, she promptly turned around and, retracting her arm, she pulled him close enough to stick a knee in his stomach.  
The man gasped and fell on his knees, still holding onto the girl's sleeve. The stitches around her shoulder cracked and the sleeve detached from the shirt, remaining in the guy's hand.  
With her left arm already naked, Concrete unbuttoned her right cuff and rolled the sleeve up. «Fine. You wanna fight? Let’s fight, then!».  
Eagle Flies tried to get back into the circle of people that in the meantime had closed around the improvised arena, blocking him out, but someone came up behind him and grabbed his arm. «Don’t move, you damn fool!», the doctor told him, pulling him back toward the horses. «Get on your horse and let me take care of this».  
Meanwhile, in the middle of the street, Concrete had positioned herself in front of her opponent, her legs slightly flexed and her fists clenched in before her face, ready to start.  
The bear-man slowly stood up, a hand pressed on his abdomen as he raised his head to look at her. He looked really mad.  
«Girl… I swear you're not going to leave this town on your own legs».  
«Ah!», she sneered at him. «I wouldn't be so sure. Trust me, big boy, I've taken down much more dangerous folks than you».  
The man spit on the ground and scrubbed the boot-sole shaped dirt off his bruised cheek.  
The two of them studied each other for a minute, ignoring Mr. O'Brian shouts as they both slowly took a step forward. Then, suddenly, the man ran up to Concrete.  
The girl was fast to dodge his attack and, helping herself with both her hands, she leaned down and grabbed the man's ankle as he ran by her, making him fall.  
Despite his big size, he was quick to get back up and as Concrete turned around, she found him already standing just a few centimetres from her.  
When she saw the fist coming at her, she raised her arms to protect her face. She swore under her breath when the man's forearm collided with hers, sending a rush of pain to her brain, but she didn't back up and immediately hit him back with a kick at his side.  
A howl raised from the crowd as the fighters kept exchanging swings. Most of the punches that hit the target were thrown by the girl since she was small and fast enough to dodge almost every one of the other’s attacks and the people watching them were getting rapidly excited by the show they were putting up.  
The man moved towards her once more. Concrete jumped back and avoided his fist by flexing on her knees, surprising him with a kick on his ankle that made him lose his balance and, as soon as he started falling down, the girl jumped up to hit his forehead with a head-butt. At the end, he found himself lying on the ground with Concrete sitting on his chest.  
«So, you still wanna do the bully with us?», she asked punching him in the face face. «Or are going to say "sorry" and leave us alone?»  
The man gritted his teeth and tried to raise his arms but they didn’t respond to his will. The young woman was using her knees to keep them pinned to the ground.  
She hit him again and blood started to stream down from his nose. «So? What will it be?»  
Another punch, then two, then more. The men in the crowd were applauding and yelling at her, encouraging her to hit harder. Concrete raised her fist over her head to hit him again but something stopped her arm from moving down.  
She turned around and her bold expression failed when she saw Mr O'Brian's terrified eyes, both his hands tight around her wrist. «Jesus Charlotte, stop! You're going to kill him!», he yelled.  
Concrete looked back down at the man under her. He had passed out.  
Raising her gaze, she saw all the people standing around her, staring at her. The ladies covering their mouths in shock while the men were complaining with the doctor for ruining their fun. Behind all those people, she saw a familiar figure standing higher than the others.  
Eagle Flies had mounted on his horse to have a better view of the situation and was now looking at Concrete with both surprise and amusement to lit up his face. When Concrete's eyes met his, he waved a fist over his head in a sign of victory.  
In the middle of that turmoil, the sound of horses pawing on the ground drew everyone's attention. Concrete turned around and saw three men on horse at the end of the road, one of them wearing a golden star on his chest.  
«So, where are those two thugs?», he asked, advancing towards the crowd. Someone must've told the sheriff about the brawl.

Concrete quickly broke free from O'Brian’s hold and ran towards her horse, shoving to the side every person that stood on her way. The animal neighed in surprise when she jumped on its back, desperately kicking its sides.  
«Eagle Flies, run!»  
At her shout, the boy spurred his horse and followed Concrete down the main road. Behind them, they could hear the sheriff and his men yelling at the people blocking the street to move away.  
At the end of the road, Concrete pulled the reins and forced Aaron to take a narrow road that led out of the town, passing next to a little church as it climbed up the hills.  
As she rode up the path, a gunshot resounded behind her and she turned around to see if Eagle Flies was still following her.  
He was but their pursuers had managed to pass through the crowd and were quickly getting closer, shooting into the air with their rifles. The girl kicked Aaron more to speed up the pace and in a matter of seconds they were on top of the hill, Fort Wallace towering over the hillocks just before their eyes.  
Concrete knew that the area around the fort was strictly surveilled, the soldiers patrolling on the walls would have shot at sight any stranger that got too close but she could hear the sheriff and his men approaching them fast and looking around her, she couldn’t see any good hiding spot. The place was basically an open field.  
_"Maybe, if we leave the horses now we can hide near the fort without being seen"_, she thought. _"There’s enough vegetation there. Maybe we can hide in the bushes until the sheriff passes by to follow our horses and then sneak away on another path… maybe?"  
_She was about to tell Eagle Flies to dismount but the boy preceded her. «Follow me!», he yelled at her before turning his horse in the direction of the fort.  
The girl didn’t waste time with questions and followed him through a small area of sparse pines, letting him guide her around the Fort and down a narrow pass that descended to the nearby Dakota River.  
The water in that patch of the river was fast but not deep and they rode up the creek for a while, both their sides protected by high spurs of rock.  
When they found themselves in front of a small waterfall, Eagle Flies turned his horse to the left, up a rocky slope and into the woods.  
Concrete kept following him through the trees and the bushes. At times the roots would get between Aaron's legs and risk to make the horse trip while the girl on its back had to lay low on its neck to avoid getting hit by the low tree branches.  
Hugging the horse’s neck, she looked up at the boy riding before her. He looked perfectly comfortable riding in a forest, knowing how to lead his horse in that thick tangle of branches and roots and in a few minutes they emerged on a mountain path at the other side of the woods.  
Eagle Flies stopped his horse and turned to Concrete. «Did we lost them?»  
«I hope so», she huffed, removing a leaf from her hair as she stopped next to him. «Well done, taking us up here. How did you know where to go?»  
The boy gave his horse a light kick and slowly started to walk up the path, Concrete following to him. «This is not the first I run from the law, as you can imagine».  
«Yeah, I can imagine that very well!», she exclaimed, making her voice sound more annoyed than she actually was. «What happened with that guy? Why were you fighting him?»  
The young man snorted and looked away. «That bastard came out of the saloon while I was looking for the money in your saddle and started insulting me, accusing me to be stealing. He really pissed me off».  
Concrete rolled her eyes. «Yes, well… try to calm down now. You don't need to...», she started to scold him but Eagle Flies interrupted her.  
«Where did you learn that?», he asked.  
Concrete looked up at the boy in confusion. He was staring at her and, for the first time since they met, she saw a real smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement.  
«What?»  
«Fighting. Who taught you how to fight?»  
As the girl realized what he was referring to, a smug smile appeared on her face. «Ah, you liked that? My Dad and my brother taught me», she said, flexing her naked arm to jokingly show her muscles, «but I spend a lot of time training on my own».  
Even if Concrete intended that gesture to be a joke, Eagle Flies seemed to be genuinely impressed by that sight. She was actually rather muscled for a girl, especially for a one of her size and Eagle Flies had probably never seen a woman like her.  
«Woah! Remember me to never enrage you», he joked.  
«If you don’t want to enrage me you should stop fighting everyone who glares at you. As I was trying to say, you don't need to get your wound reopened when you just got it stitched up», she reminded him. «It's already the third time someone has saved your ass in the past two days and...»  
Concrete stopped mid-sentence. Eagle Flies, noticing the sudden distress on the girl's face, asked her what was wrong but she just kept looking at the sky and cursing, a hand on her forehead. «Concrete? What’s wrong?», he repeated.  
«Damn, the doctor!», she growled out through her teeth. «We ran away without paying him. Shit, I feel bad now! I absolutely have to pass by his clinic when I go back to the camp and give him his money. And also apologize to him».  
Concrete was still busy trying to figure out a way to properly thanks Mr. O’Brian when, from the corner of her eye, she noticed the boy moving silently towards her and she instinctively flinched back, which caused him to back off as well.  
«Sorry», he hurried to explain, «I was looking at those symbols on your arm. What do they mean?»  
She looked down at her arm and saw that, with the sleeve being completely ripped off, her left arm was exposed up to the shoulder where a red mark stood off on her pale complexion.

_"Prj.Cct/Sbj.0018"_

Concrete brought a hand to her upper arm and caressed those letters and numbers with her fingertips. «These? I don't know. Dad told me I already had them when he found me. Looks like someone branded me when I was little but I can’t really remember», she explained.  
«He found you?»  
«Yes, you see... he's not my real father».  
«Mmh. Anyway...», Eagle Flies rapidly changed the topic, probably feeling like he was starting to dig too much in the girl’s private life. «Let's take this path. We should be at the reservation before dark».  
Loosening the reins, they let their horses trot up the muddy path, towards the mountains.

The sun had almost completely gone down and the sky was shining of a beautiful pink when the two youths crossed the small wooden bridge standing over a clear creek. According to Eagle Flies, the reservation wasn't too far from there.  
As they passed the bridge, they heard a horse galloping towards them from the opposite direction. «Someone's coming», Concrete stated, stopping her horse in the middle of the trail.  
Eagle Flies stopped as well and squinted his eyes to see through the darkness of the late evening.  
From the other end of the road, the shadow of a person on horseback emerged. Concrete could see it was a man in a red flannel shirt, carrying a bow and rifle around his shoulders but she couldn’t really recognize his features.  
When he noticed them in the distance, the man stopped his horse. The three of them stared at each other for a while until Concrete saw Eagle Flies' eyes widening, his expression lighting up as he spurred his horse and run fast towards the mysterious man.  
«Paytah!»  
«Who?», the girl asked, hurrying to follow him.  
The man at the other end of the path shifted forward on the saddle, intensely observing them. «Eagle Flies? Is that you?», he asked hesitantly before also moving towards them.  
«Yes, brother», the boy replied once he reached him, Concrete just behind him. «I'm back».  
The man smiled with joy when he recognized his friend. «Damn it, Eagle Flies! We thought we had lost you for good! Me and the others have been looking for you everywhere in the past six days but those bastard seemed to have disappeared».  
The man then turned his gaze to the young woman riding at his friend's side and carefully observed her from the bottom to the top. Concrete could now see he was also a young native, his tanned skin just a bit darker than Eagle Flies' and his raven hair were tied back in a neat ponytail. Across his chest, he wore a white sash decorated with colourful motives.  
«Who is this woman?», he asked, a bit suspicious. Eagle Flies calmly gestured towards her, introducing her to his friend.  
«Paytah, this is Concrete. She helped me escaping from those men».  
Concrete nodded towards him. «Pleased to meet you».  
He returned the greetings before turning again to his friend. «Come, your father is really worried. He will be happy to know you're safe».  
Having said that, he turned his horse around and led them up the path he just came from, back to the reservation.

The place wasn't too far from where they met. Eagle Flies and Paytah spent the rest of the travel talking to each other in their native language, which Concrete couldn’t understand, so she just rode behind them in silence.  
She had seen some paintings and drawings of native tribes throughout the years and she was rather excited at the prospect of seeing one with her own eyes. Sadly, what she saw entering the reservation was not what the girl was expecting.  
There wasn't any multitude of tall teepees of shiny colours, nor children running around laughing and people in traditional clothes walking all around the place, busied with their daily routine. Actually, there's almost no people at all out there.  
The reservation was small, much smaller than Concrete could have ever imagined and the tents were built up with old ruined hides, remnants of blankets sewn here and there to patch the occasional holes, giving the whole place a depressing gray shade.  
No trace of the beautiful traditional clothes. The few people sitting outside their teepees were all wearing old clothes they had probably gotten from some white merchant and all of them were keeping their heads low, intent to consume what looked like a watery soup.  
_"These people… There’s so much pain in this place",_ she thought as sadness caught her heart. Eagle Flies had told her things were bad at his reservation but she couldn’t have imagine they were that bad.  
A little girl eating outside her teepee with her parents saw the three riders entering the circle of tents and jumped up on her feet, running away while yelling something in Lakota. Her parents turned to them and Eagle Flies raised a hand, greeting them.  
Suddenly, people started flowing out of their tents, probably drawn by the little girl's shouts, and gathered around the three of them, happy to welcome Eagle Flies back, and kept following them as they proceeded deeper into the reservation land.  
Even in the happiness of that moment, Concrete could feel on her skin the sinister looks those people were giving her, making her uncomfortable.  
It was clear they didn’t appreciate her presence there.  
The group eventually reached a wooden shack, next to which was erected a tepee just slightly larger than the others, with an old man standing in front of it.  
The man's mouth curled up in a soft smile when he saw Eagle Flies. The three youths dismounted from their horses whilst the people of the tribe formed a circle around them and Eagle Flies walked up to him, leaving his mount to a young girl who brought it away, to a fenced area just behind the shack where many other horses were kept.  
«My son», the old man spoke and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, giving him a light squeeze. «It’s good to have you back with us. You'll tell me everything later, after you've rested».  
Eagle Flies nodded, brushing his bruised cheek with his fingers before turning to the girl behind him. «Father, this is Concrete. She saved me… more than once».  
Concrete stepped a bit closer, unsure about what to do. All those eyes fixed on her made her feel anxious and she was afraid to do something wrong, but the chief seemed a good man.  
«Miss Concrete, thank you for helping my son. We'll a lot to talk about tonight», he told her, smiling. Then, he turned to the people around them and spoke to them. «Is there anyone kind enough to host our friend for the night? It’s getting dark and we can't let a girl sleep outside alone».  
Immediately, a corpulent, middle aged woman took a step forward. «I'll take care of her», she said adjusting a shawl around her body.  
«Thank you, Rolling Stone. Now, come», the chief said walking up to his tent and Concrete noticed he limped heavily on his right leg.  
Raising the flaps that covered the tent's entrance, he disappeared inside. Concrete looked at Eagle Flies, who nodded at her and gestured for her to enter tent.  
Still a bit timorous, she bent down and entered the teepee.

* * *

Meanwhile, miles away from the reservation, Arthur was looking outside the dirty window of his room, staring at the dark woods that surrounded the camp in hope to see a familiar figure emerging from there.  
«Damn, where the hell is that girl?»


	5. The Lost Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Concrete returns at the camp, Dutch decides it's finally time to send someone out to look for John.

_“We have been running for weeks, I mean running more than usual. The job they were pulling in Blackwater, robbing that ferry, it turned into a disaster. Young Jenny got killed, poor thing, while Sean and Mac both got arrested, or killed, nobody seems sure which, even if Concrete swears she saw them throw Sean in a police cart. She even tried to go there and help him but in the end she was forced to back up". _

Pushing the pen across the paper, Arthur briefly raised his head to look through the dirty window at the trees around the cabin.

_  
_ _"Dutch shot a girl, I am not too sure if by accident or by design, and seems like it might have been a set up.  
We took the hills in an almighty scramble, leaving money and most of our things behind. Then, as we were fleeing East over the Grizzlies, an almighty storm hit us.  
Davey Callender, who had got shot in the gut on the raid, passed away. It was brutal to watch and the rest of us nearly froze, but we found shelter and have been resting here in some old, abandoned mining town while we await the thaw”. _

He turned to the window again, staring pensively at the glass for a moment before closing his journal and tossing it on the nightstand at his side, then he got up from the bed with a loud sigh and left the room. He strode across the empty living room and opened the front door to look for his friend, spotting him near the horses. «Charles!», he yelled marching toward the other man.  
Charles, who was intent to groom his horse, raised his head to give him a confused look from under the large hat that covered his head.  
«Charles, have you seen Concrete?»  
«She went out hunting five days ago», he answered, going back to brush Taima's back, seemingly not too worried.  
«I know but...»  
Arthur placed his hands on his hips and fidgeted on the spot, looking left and right, then turned back to Charles. «Can I… I mean… Can you lend me Taima again, just for a couple of hours?», he asked, a little embarrassed. His friend looked at him in a slightly amused way, throwing the curry comb in a bucket near the hitching pole.  
«Are you really that worried for her?», he asked, bending down to take the horse’s leg in his hands and lifting it to check the sole of its hoof. «If there’s one thing I have learned in the past six months spent in this gang, it’s that there’s nothing more dangerous than an angry Concrete. Even if someone tried to harm her, she'd take care of them before they could move a finger. I’m sure she’s fine».  
Before Arthur could retort, Charles untied Taima’s reins from the pole and handed them to him. «You can go look for her, if that will make you feel better», he said in his usual calm tone.  
Arthur took the reins in his hand, scratching his neck. He didn’t usually let his emotions show and he also didn’t like to have to ask others to lend him their horses but he didn’t have any other way to move around since his Boadicea got killed in Blackwater.  
«Yeah, thanks...», he mumbled awkwardly before mounting on the horse and trotting away from the camp.

Following the snowy path, Arthur descended the mountain for almost two hours, looking around for any trace of Concrete's passage. The morning air was not as cold as in the previous days but it was still cold enough to make him lose sensibility in his extremities. He tried to hide his reddened nose under the collar of his coat and pressed his hat on his head, cursing under his breath as he realized that it must have snowed again the night before. Now finding Concrete would have been even harder.  
He was starting to lose hope when something alongside the path caught his attention. There was a tree branch stuck in a voluminous snowbank with a folded paper put on its tip. Suspicious, Arthur got off the horse and walked up the snowdrift, detached the wet paper from the branch and unfolded it, revealing a message written in a familiar calligraphy.

_“Hi, brother. I knew you would have come to look for me so I’ve left here some of what I've managed to hunt. I hope you find it before it rots. Don’t worry for me, I’m fine and I’ll be back soon”._

«Of course she's fine. That girl...»  
He grunted as he crumpled the note and threw it behind him, then he started to move the snow off of whatever Concrete had left there.  
Under the frozen surface, he found the skinned carcass of a deer that looked still in good condition, apart from a spot on its leg where someone, probably his sister, had cut off a large piece of meat. He managed to get the deer out of the snowbank and pulled it up on his shoulder, transporting it to Taima that was huffing impatiently on the trail. «I know girl, this weather is horrible», he comforted the horse as he threw the dead animal on her back. «Don’t worry, I’ll take you back to your owner soon».  
Taima’s ears darted back all of a sudden as she raised her head to look at something before her. Arthur stopped dead in the middle of climbing on the horse, standing still with a foot in the stirrup until he heard the sound of the snow creaking behind a large boulder, just a few meters further from there.  
He jumped on the saddle, ready to run and shoot if needed, as the sound got closer and closer. Then, from behind the boulder, a blond shire horse appeared with a small short haired woman sitting peacefully on its back, humming a happy tune. «Concrete?», he questioned out loud.  
The woman raised her head and her black eyes widened for a second, sparkling with joy as she recognized him. She kicked her horse’s sides and quickly reached him, greeting him happily. «Arthur, you found the deer!», she observed and, in his mind, Arthur let out a sigh of relief.  
«Where the hell have you been?», he asked immediately. «Didn't you say you would have been away for only a couple of days? Why riding further away when you had already caught this big ass deer?»  
«Not now», she interrupted the flux of questions, not giving much credit to her brother’s scolding gaze, and stuck two fingers in the collar of her jacket to pull out what looked like some sort of handcrafted necklace, a simple rope tied to a small hide pouch decorated with a brown feathers.  
«First of all, we have to call Charles. I want him to hear this, too».  
Spurring Aaron to trot toward the camp, Concrete gestured for her brother to hurry up.  
Arthur sighed, turning Taima around to follow the girl. _“Well, at least she’s back in one piece”_, he thought riding after her.

An hour later, Arthur was standing in a corner of their shack, smoking a cigarette while Concrete was sitting in front of the fireplace with her family and Charles, telling them about all the things that had happened to her in the past few days.  
«The woman that hosted me for the night was really nice», she told them, sipping the coffee Hosea had prepared for her. «Looked a bit intimidating at first but she turned out to be really sweet».  
«Well, you were really lucky, girl. You need to stop running head down into danger, especially when you’re all alone», Susan scolded her and reached out for the empty cup, giving the girl a stern look. Concrete handed it to her, returning the glance with an awkward smile.  
«Sorry, Ma...»  
Charles shifted toward her on his chair, bending a little down so to be at her same level. «You said they were Lakota, right?»  
She shrugged, placing both her elbows on her knees. «Well, I could recognize some of the words you taught me as they talked and the boy didn’t correct me when I said he was speaking Lakota».  
«And what about that pouch?»  
Concrete pointed at the small bag hanging from her neck. «This? Their shaman made it for me. With herbs for protection and buffalo hair for strength, he said. He's very old and almost blind but he's still very skilled in craftsmanship».  
Charles nodded and laid back against the backrest, crossing his arms with a thoughtful expression.  
For a few moments, silence fell upon the room. The only sound that could be heard was the brushing of the cloth against the cup's surface as Miss Grimshaw was cleaning it, until Dutch suddenly stood up from his seat near the fireplace and walked up to the window. «The wind is rising again», he stated bluntly, looking outside. «John is still out there, somewhere».  
«You should send someone out to look for him, Dutch», Hosea advised him quiet worriedly. «He’s been missing for too long».  
«So he hasn’t returned, yet?», Concrete asked receiving a head shake from the old man.  
From the corner of the room, Arthur, feeling observed, raised his gaze from the floor and saw a pair of big black eyes fixed on him with a pleading look. He stared back at them for a moment before pushing himself away from the wall with a grunt. «C’mon, girl. Let’s see if we can find that idiot».  
Concrete jumped on her feet with a wide, relieved smile and hurried to follow him outside where they found Javier saddling his horse. «Guys, I’m heading out to look for John», he told the two as he saw them approaching. «You wanna come?»  
«That’s exactly what we were about to do».  
«Good», he said tossing Taima’s reins at Arthur. «Let’s go then».

A couple of hours later, the three outlaws were riding up the mountain in a freezing wind that cut their faces, the thick fog obscuring their sight. «This way», Javier yelled at the two riding behind him, his voice barely overcoming the roar of the wind. «Last I know, John was headed up the river. For all we know, he kept riding North and never looked back».  
«Let's just hope he hasn't ran away again…», Arthur said, a hint of resentment in his voice.  
«He wouldn’t leave», Concrete stated firmly, using her hand to shield her eyes from the flying snowflakes as she tried to look further into the mist. «Not like that».  
Arthur scoffed at that. «Well, wouldn’t be the first time», he rebutted.  
The young woman turned around to give her brother a disappointed look. «Don’t say that. He’s no longer like that».  
«Are you sure about that?»  
«Well, he’s… a little better now. I mean...»  
Concrete’s voice slowly died in her throat as she tried to think of a proof of John’s improvement. She eventually gave up, turning her back to Arthur with a defeated growl, showing him he was right. After all, they both knew what a big idiot John was, too hard headed to change just because a child had gotten in his way.  
They kept riding in silence until the wind started to die down and they spotted smoke in the distance. When they reached the place where the smoke was rising from, they found an abandoned campfire and Javier dismounted to check around the area. «Seems like somebody left recently», he observed, studying the embers. Then, he raised his hand and briefly pointed at a trail of hoof prints barely visible in the snow before jumping back on his horse. «That way. There’s some tracks leading to the river».  
Concrete made her horse move closer to the campfire to check the trail herself. There were indeed traces of a horse entering the nearby watercourse and emerging again on the other bank.  
Arthur moved slowly by her side. «You think it’s John?», he asked, trusting her ability at reading tracks.  
«Don’t know», she answered distractedly as she looked around for any other traces of John’s passage. «It could be anyone. Let’s see where they lead».  
With a firm kick she forced Aaron to move into the cold water and cross the river, the two men just behind her as she followed the trail up the rocky mountain’s side.  
As they followed the girl, Arthur took the opportunity to clarify a doubt he still had. «So… you were there, Javier», he started a little uncertain, leaning more toward his friend on the saddle. «What really happened on that boat?»  
Looking straight ahead, Javier answered the question in a melancholic tone. «We had the money, it seemed fine», he explained, «then suddenly they were everywhere».  
«Bounty hunters?»  
«No, Pinkertons. It was crazy. Raining bullets». He paused a moment to pull his old poncho higher over his face. «Dutch killed a girl in a… bad way, but it was a bad situation».  
Arthur blinked at him, surprised by the new information. «That ain’t like him, though».  
Javier seemed to ignore his friend’s last comment, continuing to tell his story. «Davey got shot. Mac and John… both shot too. Sean, we don’t even know for sure. I’m surprised we escaped at all. By the time you boys showed up from the other side of the town, we were only just holding up».  
He stopped talking to rub the melting snow away from his eyes as the storm started to raise again but before he could complain about it, the girl at the lead of the group turned around on the saddle. «C’mon, before we lose the tracks!», she yelled at them, spurring her horse to a slow gallop up a steep slope and in a few minutes they found themselves climbing a narrow path overhanging on a precipice, the horses stumbling in the fresh snow.  
«The horses are getting tired. Maybe we should stop», Arthur worriedly shouted at Concrete, who didn’t seem to intend to slow down. «And the snow already covered the tracks. We can’t follow nothing».  
«Let’s push on a little bit more», she insisted.  
«She’s right, Arthur», Javier agreed with the girl. «Maybe we’ll pick up the trail again. I’m sure John would do the same for us».  
Arthur rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to find John but everyone seemed to hold him in a little too high esteem that day.  
Suddenly, when the narrow path ended and a small valley opened before them, Concrete’s shout made the two men jump on the saddle from the scare. «There!», she yelled pointing at a distant black mass in the snow.  
The three of them hurried to reach that spot and as they got closer, the black mass slowly turned into a horse, lying dead in the snow with its abdomen sliced open and the intestines slayed all around. On its back, a black saddle with the initials _“J.M.”_ carved on the horn.  
Concrete gasped. «It’s John’s horse!»  
Arthur started to look around. «Must’ve been the wolves. He couldn’t have gone far».  
«Let’s try to make ourselves heard», Javier said, pulling his gun out and firing a shot into the air.  
After a few seconds, they heard a faint voice calling for help somewhere not too far from there and Arthur saw Concrete promptly jump off of her horse and start running in the snow, toward what looked like a rather dangerous path attached to a spur of rock that sloped toward a scary leap in the void.  
He tried to call her back but the girl had already disappeared. _“Damnit! Will she ever listen?”, _he thought frustrated as he dismounted to run after her.  
He and Javier tried to follow the girl on that dangerous path, climbing up and down and crawling under the rocks, occasionally slipping on the iced ground, risking to fall down into the ravine. «How can she run that fast on here?», Javier asked as he crawled through a thigh crack in the rock wall, Arthur following him closely.  
«Don't ask me. That's some really weird girl».  
Emerging on the other side, they found themselves in a small plain where, at its other side, they could see a small figure knelt in the snow as she looked down the cliff before her. They ran up to the girl and when she saw them coming, she jumped up and started waving at them, an expression of both relief and fear on her face. «He's here, hurry!», she yelled, pointing down over the edge of the cliff.  
When they reached her, Arthur was the first to move closer to the edge and look down where he saw a familiar and very emaciated face looking up at him. «Hey there, John! That's quite a scratch you got there», he greeted him, pointing out the big cuts that covered the right side of his face.  
«Never thought I'd say this», John rebutted, leaning tiredly against the rocks behind him, «but it's good to see you, Arthur Morgan».  
«C'mon, don't just stand there! Let's help him up!»  
At Concrete's incitement, Arthur jumped off the cliff onto the ledge below and helped the younger man up, pulling him on his shoulder in order to allow the other two to get him. After Concrete and Javier had pulled him up on the cliff, she immediately started to check out his injuries. «So, you happy now? You've got your Johnny back», Arthur mocked her as he climbed back up, gaining an annoyed look from the girl.  
She huffed and turned around, inciting the others to go back to the horses before the storm could rise again.

«Shit, I'm freezing», John whined as Arthur helped him climb on the horse, behind Javier.  
He gave him a quick pat on the back before turning to Taima, scratching her neck affectionately.  
The Appaloosa horse neighed and flattened its ears against its head, nervously stomping its hooves on the ground. Arthur moved his hand to its muzzle and gently pet it. «What's wrong, girl?», he asked confused, as Javier's horse was starting to get nervous as well. He couldn't see anything that could have scared the horses around them, until Concrete raised her hand to point at a nearby hillock.  
«Guys, up there… », she said in a low voice, pointing at a pack of wolves staring at them from the top of the hill, their white fur camouflaging them in the snow.  
Arthur cursed under his breath and quickly jumped on his horse, yelling at the others to run away. He and Javier spurred their horses and started to flee down the slope but after a few meters, Arthur noticed that Concrete wasn't following them and he pulled the reins to turn around, seeing the wolves run down the hill toward them, growling menacingly, but the girl was holding Aaron back from escaping.  
«Concrete, what are you doing?»  
«Go on», she yelled at him, turning her horse to the opposite direction, «I'll take care of them!»  
«Don't be an idiot!», he tried to scold her but she was already riding away, dragging the pack behind her. A couple of wolves detached from the rest and came running toward Arthur who, after a moment of hesitation, decided to keep running with Javier.  
They rode together down the mountain until they reached the river they had crossed just a few hours prior and Arthur pulled out his rifle, making Taima slow down. «You go», he told his friend. «I'll take Concrete back and meet you at the camp».  
«You sure?», Javier asked slowing down as well but Arthur gestured for him to go.  
«It's just a couple of dogs. I'll be fine».  
«Alright, be careful».  
As Javier kept riding to take John back to safety, Arthur turned around in the middle of the river and raised the rifle to aim at the wolves. He pulled the trigger and the first wolf rolled on the ground, then he shot again and the other beast howled in pain as it stumbled in the snow but it quickly regained its balance and kept running toward the man.  
Scared, Taima tried to back up but Arthur held the reins steadily. He aimed again but the wolf was approaching fast and the second bullet only gave it another non fatal wound, failing to slow it down.  
Finally, he decided to loosen the reins and allow Taima to flee, letting the horse take him back up the mountain, following the river until it narrowed suddenly to become a small creek gushing from an ice wall. He regained control of the horse, forcing it to gallop near that wall until he could no longer hear the wolf huffing behind him and, with a hard pull of the reins, he stopped Taima and turned around.  
The beast seemed to have disappeared. It had probably left the hunt because of the exhaustion from the wounds but the man would have sworn he could still hear its heavy panting somewhere not too far from him. He squinted his eyes and focused his sight on the margin of the brook where he saw blood traces leading into the water, reappearing on the other side.  
Suddenly a handful of snow fell on his shoulder from above, accompanied by a low growl. Arthur looked up and saw two dark eyes staring back at him from a ledge of the ice wall.  
«How the hell…?»  
Instinctively, he raised his rifle and pulled the trigger, shooting at the wolf in the chest as it jumped off the ledge. The animal yelped one time and fell heavily onto the man, unsaddling him whilst the scared horse reared and ran away.  
Arthur fell on his back with a barely contained scream. The snow had cushioned his fall and saved him from any serious damage but it still took him a minute to push the dead wolf off of him and get back on his feet. «Ah, shit… Taima? Where are you?», he called out, stretching his sore back. «Taima, come back! You don't want Charles to get mad at me, right?»  
Worried that he could lost his friend's horse, he started whistling frantically to call it back, stumbling in the snow after its traces. He let out a sigh of relief when, after a particularly loud whistle, he saw a familiar muzzle pecking from behind a spruce trunk. «Taima, don't hide like that! You made me worry», he reproached the mare as he strode toward it.  
After he had calmed it down with some heavy pats on the neck, he mounted on the horse and headed back to where they had come from. «C'mon, we still have to find the other girl».

Arthur climbed back up the snowy mountain until he reached the place where he had last saw his sister. He could clearly see the signs of her and the wolves' passage on the ground, sometimes accompanied by traces of blood, leading further between the white peaks.  
He rode after the trail and, after a few minutes, he found the first dead wolf, soon followed another one and another yet. He found many of them as he proceeded after the fresh traces and his heart felt a little less heavy seeing that the girl had probably managed to care of beasts by herself. _"Of course she has"_, he thought. _"She's a capable young woman and she's been through much worse than a bunch of hungry dogs. Why do I even worry?"  
_As he thought that, the sound of a gunshot echoed between the peaks and he instinctively kicked his horse's side, galloping faster toward the source of the noise.  
Running by more dead wolves, Arthur called the girl's name, anxious to get to her. He found her in the middle of a large plain, standing in the stirrups with a rifle in her hands, her horse pawing the ground as the wolves moved in circles around it.  
He pulled his revolver out as he ran up to her. «Concrete!», he shouted, aiming at the closest wolf but the girl was doing fine by herself, shooting and recharging quickly and in a matter of seconds, even the last few wolves were lying dead on the ground.  
«Hey, brother!», she greeted him cheerfully as the man reached her. «You didn't have to come back for me».  
«No», Arthur replied, now more relaxed. «Apparently not».  
He watched Concrete put her rifle back in the saddle holster, her characteristic smug smile printed on her face, and the corner of his mouth curled up inadvertently. He would have never said it out loud but seeing that girl getting more and more capable everyday filled him with pride. It was good to know that all the time spent instructing her hadn’t been in vain.  
«So, what do you think? The student is finally surpassing the teacher?», the girl joked, moving closer to him. Arthur took off his hat, covered in a thin layer of snow, and shook it toward her, throwing the snow at her face. She let out a muffled scream in protest, rubbing her eyes.  
«C'mon», he said turning his horse around, «the others are waiting for us».

Riding back into the camp, they saw Javier, Hosea and Mr Strauss leave the women's cabin and run clumsily toward them in the deep snow.  
The three men reached them when they were hitching their horses at the outer fence of the mining town and Javier immediately went to give Concrete a strong pat on the back, making her lose her breath for a moment. «Concrete, here you are! Glad to see you back in one piece».  
«What about me?», Arthur asked his friend as he walked up to him with his arms wide open, pretending to be offended. «Aren't you happy to see me?»  
«You're not a pretty little woman, Arthur».  
Concrete laughed. Arthur wanted to rebut but Hosea interrupted that silly conversation and sent Javier back inside after having thanked him for helping find John. «And thanks to you two, too», he turned to them.  
«You got any other lost maidens need saving?», Arthur asked, rubbing his cold hands together. The sun was dipping down behind the horizon, coloring everything with a soft pink while the temperature decreased quickly. «Have you and Dutch talked about how we're gonna get out of this?»  
«I was just discussing with Herr Strauss. When the weather breaks, I suppose we'll have to keep heading East».  
Arthur turned sharply to him, giving him a shocked look. «East?! Into all that…»  
He furtively looked around a couple of times before bending down to whisper in Hosea's ear, as if he was about to say something horrible that he didn't the others to hear.  
«That _civilization_?»  
«I know but the West is where our problems are worse», Hosea explained calmly. Arthur was speechless. He would have wanted to protest but he knew Hosea was right, the West wasn't a safe place for them at that time.  
Without waiting for Arthur's answer, Hosea turned to Mr Strauss and gestured toward the cabin. «Herr Strauss, let's get warm».  
The little Austrian man quickly thanked the two younger gang members before trotting after Hosea back inside, leaving a dejected Arthur in the middle of the camp, staring pensively at the horizon.  
«Don't worry. Maybe the East won't be that bad».  
Arthur looked down to find Concrete staring up at him. «If you say so…», he grunted in response.  
The girl took him by the sleeve and pulled him toward the cabin. «Let's go see how the John's doing», she said, dragging him after her.

Entering the hut, the two siblings were welcomed by the cheers of the women and the Reverend Swanson, who was sitting in a corner with a Bible in his hands.  
Abigail jumped up from her chair and walked quickly up to them to enfold Concrete in a warm hug. «Concrete, thank you. And thank you too, Arthur, for bringing back that idiot».  
«Don't mention it», Arthur reassured her and with a sharp movement of the head, he pointed at the man lying on the cot across the room. «How is he?»  
«He's been better but he'll survive».  
While Abigail and Arthur were busy talking, Concrete quietly moved closer to the cot and looked down at the man lying on it, his face completely wrapped in clean bandages. «John?», she called quietly. He grumbled something unintelligible and turned his head to face her. «You okay?»  
«What do you think?», he replied in a tired tone.  
The girl looked again at his bandaged face and sighed, placing her hands on her hips. «Not that well, I guess».  
For a few seconds they stared at each other in silence, then Concrete took the courage to ask a question that had long been on her mind.  
«John… why didn't you come back when the storm started rising, the other day?»  
«Dutch told us to look for a place to settle in. I was just following orders», he replied moving his gaze on the ceiling but Concrete didn't believe him.  
«You should have known better than wander the mountain in the middle of a storm, all by yourself. Tell me the truth, did you keep pushing North because…»  
She bent down closer to him, trying to not have Abigail hear her. «Were you trying to run away?»  
John kept staring at the ceiling in silence, refusing to answer. Concrete straightened her posture and let her head roll back with a loud sigh, passing a hand through her hair. «John, you have a family now. When will you stop running away from your responsibilities and start taking care of it...?»  
«_When will you stop running away from your responsibilities?_», John repeated in a high pitched voice, mimicking the girl, but his mockeries ended soon when he found himself with two fingers violently stuck up his nostrils.  
«I see you're not that exhausted, after all…», she said in an unusually low and sinister tone as she pulled the man up by his nose as he whined and grasped at her wrist, attempting to free himself. That was when Abigail intervened, separating the two.  
«Alright babies, enough playing for today. He needs to rest», she tiredly scolded them, pushing John back down on the cot while Arthur threw an arm around Concrete's shoulders and led her away, to the front door. The girl could only briefly exchange one last challenging stare with John before her brother pushed her outside, closing the door behind them.  
As he walked her to their shared cabin, Arthur could see the anger in his sister's expression turn into a more sour emotion. «You were right», she whispered, frowning as she stared at the ground.  
Arthur raised an eyebrow. «On what?»  
«John hasn't changed», she replied, grumbling.  
«Oh, that… Well, don't worry», he said opening the shack's door and letting the girl in. «I'm sure if you keep spanking him hard enough he'll get his act together, one day. If he doesn't die from your beating first».  
Concrete giggled lightly and quickly said goodbye to Arthur before going to their bedroom to rest, leaving him to stand alone in the doorway.  
He turned back to watch as the weather outside started worsening again.  
_"Damn… will these storms ever stop?", _he thought and, after having contemplated the weather for a good minute, he closed door and went to sit next to the fire. Placed his satchel on the ground, he pulled out his journal and a pencil and went back to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if it took me so long to update but life has been kinda crazy lately. I hope I'll find more time to write in the future.


	6. Just The Usual Train Robbery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though the gang's situation is still not good, Dutch decides to bring the others train robbing.

Concrete sighed, lazily moving the twig across the snow to draw another amorphous figure as she sat on a stump next to the cabin entrance. The men of the gang had left the camp early in the morning to go track down the O’Driscolls and left her behind, so she had had to spend the day helping Miss Grimshaw and the other women with the chores. Now it was almost evening and she had nothing better to do than sit there and wait for the others to come back.  
«You managed to escape from Mrs Grimshaw?»  
Hosea slowly descended the steps that led to the cabin's door and went to stand next to her. Concrete placed her chin on the palm of her hand and threw the stick away. «I'm done with the chores for today», she said looking at the horizon for a minute, then turned back to Hosea. «They didn't even tried to wake me up this time. They just left me here», she complained.  
«It's your fault for sleeping too much. You're becoming lazy, girl».  
«What can I say… Sleeping is nice», the girl shrugged. Hosea scoffed, leaning against the cabin's wall as he lit himself a pipe.  
Concrete stretched her legs before her, then stood up, swinging her arms to give herself a push. «Dutch seemed quite impatient, yesterday», she said looking at the people walking around the camp. «He could've waited a little longer before going after another gang. We haven’t even recovered from Blackwater, yet».  
«I know!», Hosea exclaimed exasperated, blowing out a gray cloud. «I tried to reason with him but he just won’t listen. He can be such a fool». He breathed in another puff and pushed himself off the wall, starting to slowly pace around. «I hope he won't lead Colm here with this foolish plan of his».  
At that moment, they heard a far off neigh coming from the other side of the camp and saw a group of riders emerge from the white line of the horizon. «It's them!», Concrete exclaimed and left Hosea to run up to them.  
At the head of the group, Dutch waved at her. «We're back», he stated the obvious as he jumped down from his horse and led it to the nearest hitching pole, the others just behind him. Concrete took a quick look at all of them and her gaze fell on the figure limply hung on the back of Arthur's horse.  
«Who's that?», she pointed at the man, who raised his head to give her a distressed look.  
«Have mercy, Miss».  
Arthur grabbed him and pulled him down from the horse, roughly holding him up from the collar of his jacket as he made him turn toward Concrete. «Miss Van Der Linde, let me introduce you to Mr Kieran O'Driscoll».  
«I'm no O'Driscoll!», the man stuttered and weakingly tried to break free from Arthur's grip, only to end up being pushed face down on the ground.  
«O'Driscoll, uh?», the girl bent over him with a creepy grin, getting a kick out of the terrified expression on the man's face as he twisted his neck to try and look up at her. «I wonder if he screams like the others».  
At that threatening phrase, the man let out a defeated groan and let his face fell back into the snow, gaining a small laugh from the girl.  
Dutch walked up to them, looking at the roll of papers he was holding in his hands with an extremely satisfied expression. «Welcome to your new home», he told their prisoner as Arthur cut the rope that was tying his ankles together. «Hope you're real happy here».  
«You want me to make him talk?», Arthur asked pulling him up again but Dutch shook his head.  
«Oh, no. Now all we'll get is lies. Uncle, Mr. Williamson, tie this maggot up somewhere safe. We get him hungry first».  
As the two men approached the O'Driscoll and grabbed him by his arms Dutch took a step closer, looking at him straight in the eyes with a calm but menacing look that made the man freeze on the spot. «I've got a saying, my friend», he growled. «We shoot fellers as need shooting, save fellers as need saving and feed them as need feeding… We're gonna find out what you need».  
With a sharp movement, he turned around, throwing his arms up at the sky as his expression and tone suddenly shifted, becoming joyful. «I can't believe it! An O'Driscoll in my camp».  
«I ain't no O'Driscoll! I hate that feller!», the man insisted. Concrete rolled her eyes.  
«Sure, whatever you say», she said, sarcastic, as the others took the man away to what remained of an old stable, then she turned to Arthur. «What about Colm?», she asked him, crossing her arms. He snorted with annoyance.  
«We missed him, I'm afraid».  
«Oh, we'll have time for that», Dutch intervened enthusiastically from their cabin's entrance. «Now I gotta figure out if we can hit that train», he said and with a small giggle he disappeared inside, leaving the other two alone outside.  
Concrete’s arms fell to her sides as she looked at Arthur in disbelief. «Hit a train? Now? But we are hardly back on our feet».  
«I know! That's what I told him», he replied, mildly annoyed as he started walking towards the cabin with her. «But I guess we'll have to trust him on this. He's never let us down, after all».  
«Yeah, you're right…», Concrete mumbled thoughtfully as Arthur opened the door. She was about to follow him inside when she saw Uncle and Bill coming out from the ruined stable and an idea crossed the bored girl's mind.  
«You're not coming in?», Arthur asked, seeing the girl suddenly stopping on the steps.  
She turned around and walked to the old building, waving back at him. «Later. I want to check a thing, first».  
«Sure, _“check a thing”_... Just don't maul him too much», Arthur smirked as he walked inside, easily imagining the girl's intentions. She could be a bastard too, when she wanted to.

Concrete violently pushed the door open, entering the building with her arms wide open as she announced herself, clumsily imitating Dutch's theatrical entrances, causing the man to jump on his seat.  
He had been tied on a chair, in a corner of the stable where he tried to shrink himself as soon as he saw the woman approaching him. «So, what do we have here?», Concrete chanted as she bent over him with a creepy smile and the man squinted his eyes, as if he was afraid to look at her. «What? Are you afraid of this tiny little girl?»  
«You… are y-you Van Der Linde's daughter?», he stuttered. It was clear that the idea of having to deal with the rival boss' daughter intimidated him quite a bit.  
«So it seems», Concrete answered and raised a hand to point at the door behind her. «Can you hear that?», she asked, her sinister smile disappearing and her face turning dead serious.  
The man looked over her shoulder, outside the open door, and sharpened his ears as much as he could to hear what she wanted him to, not wanting to enrage her, and with a little effort he could hear a distant whale, like a woman's cry.  
«That woman lost everything. Her house, her love, her dignity… And whose fault do you think that is?»  
Concrete took a step forward, getting even closer to the man who just stared back at her wide eyed. «She lost everything because of you bastards and if it was for me, you'd have a hole in your forehead right now».  
«I didn't do anything to her», he spoke up, showing a first glimpse of courage. «I-I know the O'Driscolls are a bunch of bastards and I'm sorry that lady had bumped into them. Really, I-I'm sorry but I swear I have nothing to do with this story. I'm not like the rest of them».  
«I hope what you say is true. And I hope you won't try anything stupid while you're here», Concrete growled, waving a finger at his face. «You don't want to get my special treatment, trust me. I hate the fact that we have to keep one of you shitty criminals in our camp...»  
«_"You criminals"_?! You think your gang is that less "criminal" than the O’Driscoll’s?», he rebutted but an hiss from the girl shut him up immediately.  
Suddenly, she straightened up and turned on her heels, heading towards the door. «Well, it's getting late anyway. Have a good night», she said in hardly cheerful way before shutting the door close behind her back, leaving the scared and cold man alone in the ruined shack.

The night went by peacefully, it didn’t snow for the first time in days and Concrete rested well enough to get up early the next morning. Strangely enough, Arthur was still asleep in his sleeping bag when she woke up.  
With a loud yawn, the girl stood up from the bed and walked up to the chair where she had left her clothes the night before, casually stepping on her brother’s stomach in the process, causing him to abruptly wake up with a grunt of pain. «The hell is wrong with you?», he grumbled, sitting up as he pressed a hand on his stomach.  
«It’s almost time», she reminded him.  
Still not completely awake, Arthur stared at the floor with a vacuous expression for a long moment before he remembered. Dutch had been clear about wanting to hit that train the previous day and he wanted to do that as soon as possible, demanding for the others to start getting ready at the crack of dawn of the next day.  
«C’mon», Concrete stretched her back before picking up her shirt from the chair, throwing it over her shoulders. «We’re still in time to go see how Johnny-boy is doing before we ride out».  
Arthur rubbed his eyes and pushed himself up, picking his jacket up from the floor as he stood, and left the room with his sister to head to Mr Pearson's cabin for the breakfast.

When the two of them entered the room, Reverend Swanson was sitting next to John’s cot, bending over the man as he pulled a syringe out of his arm. «Is everything alright here, Reverend?», Concrete asked and took a bite off the apple in her hand. The Reverend unfastened the tourniquet from around John’s arm and rolled his sleeve down before turning to face them.  
«I thought you were reading him his last rites», Arthur joked. «Now I see you’re introducing him to your other passion».  
The Reverend quickly put the syringe and the lace inside his Bible and stood up, clearly not amused by the other’s sarcasm. «I’ll mind you to show some respect, Mr. Morgan».  
«Sure… Mind away, Reverend», Arthur rebutted and moved aside. Huffing in annoyance, Swanson paced toward the door and left the two alone with the injured man.  
«You’re an asshole», the girl stated very calmly, taking another bite from the apple.  
Arthur just gave her a short snort and went to sit down at the Reverend’s place, moving the chair a little so he could face John better. «You’re still here, then?»  
John slowly turned his head and looked at them. «I owe you».  
«And you’ll pay us but for the moment, just rest».  
Silence filled the room for a minute, until Concrete started to distractly passing the apple from hand to hand. «You know...», she told John with a snarky tone. «I think I've never seen you so quiet. We should unleash wolves at you more often».  
Both the men turned to her, Arthur raising an eyebrow. «And you call me an asshole?».  
John tried to raise a hand to point at her but his body was too tired for that, so he had to settle for raising just one finger. «Concrete, I swear when I’ll be back on my feet, this chair right here is gonna crush on your head», he threatened her but he only managed to make her snort in amusement.  
«Arthur, Concrete!»  
At that moment, Dutch entered the cabin with the usual roll of papers in his hands, looking way too excited for the day’s robbery. «I think it’s time for the train».  
«You want me to come?», John asked, looking up at Dutch from under the bandages that covered his face.  
«Of course I want you to come but look at you».  
«Oh, I was always ugly. It’s just a scratch», he rebutted and tried to sit up but the others pushed him back down, telling him not to move as he was obviously not ready to ride again, yet.  
As they put John back at his place, the door creaked opened again and Abigail entered the room, closely followed by the little Jack who grasped nervously to his mother's skirt.  
As the woman approached the cot, Concrete moved aside to give her space. «The boy wanted to see you, John», she said giving the child a light push to encourage him to get closer to his father.  
The kid took a step forward. He was twisting his hands, uncertain on what to say, but John preceded him. «He's seen me now», he coldly stated and turned to look at the ceiling, gaining a disapproving stare from Concrete. «Or what’s left of me. What about you?»  
Abigail frowned, pressing her lips together as she visibly struggled to hold back her anger. «Guess I was hoping to see a corpse».  
John laughed. «Bide your time, you'll see plenty of them».  
«You're a rotten man, John Marston», the woman spit out, grabbing her son's hand to pull him away.  
«He's an idiot, Abigail, we all know it», Dutch shouted at her as she shut the door close behind her.  
Concrete stepped in front of John, her arms crossed on her chest. «Is it that hard to show a little affection to your child?»  
«Mind your business, girl».  
Dutch stepped in before the two could start a fight. «Well, it's time go. Let's get ready», he announced, gesturing for Concrete to follow him out.  
Listening to her father, the girl headed with him and Arthur to the door and left the cabin, only after having given John a last middle finger.

«Bill, now you ride ahead and set the charge», Dutch started to order around the gang as soon as he stepped outside the cabin while Concrete and Arthur went to check on their horses. «Set it at the water tower, just before the tunnel. The others, you…»  
«Why are we doing this?»  
They all turned around to see Hosea walking up to them with a very resigned look on his face. «Weather's breaking, we could leave. I thought we were lying low», he tried to reason with Dutch while Bill was already riding away to set up the explosive.Dutch rolled his eyes. «What do you want from me, Hosea?», he sighed, adjusting his rifle on his horse's saddle.  
«I just don't want any more folks to die, Dutch».  
«We're living, Hosea…», Dutch said, exasperated. «Look at me, we're living… even you. But we need money, everything we have is in Blackwater. You fancy heading back there?»  
Hosea growled, shaking his head. «No… Listen Dutch», he continued in a softer tone, «I ain't trying to undermine you. I just want to stick to the plan, which was to lie low and head back out west. Now suddenly, we're about to rob a train».  
«What choice have we got?», Dutch questioned him, while Concrete and Arthur exchanged a tired look from behind their horses. They couldn't tell how many times those two had already fought in the past twentyfour hours.  
«Leviticus Cornwall is no joke, Dutch. He…»  
«Who's Leviticus Cornwall?», Arthur interrupted them, moving closer.  
«He's a big railway magnate, sugar dealer and oil man», Hosea explained, emphasizing every title as he tried to make the others understand the dangers of attacking that train, but Dutch didn't look impressed.  
«Well, good for him», he said turning to Arthur. «Sounds like he has more than enough to share».  
Quickly, the gang's leader turned around and jumped on his horse. «Gentlemen, it's time to make something of ourselves», he yelled, kicking his horse's sides. «Get ready, we have a train to rob!»  
Hosea tried to call him back but he was already riding out of the camp, followed but the rest of the gang. He turned to Concrete, who gave him a sorry look before imitating the others and mounting on her horse. «Hey», he called her, grabbing her horse’s reins to stop her from riding away. She looked down, watching the man place a hand on her knee with an expression that looked both worried and annoyed. «Keep an eye on Dutch. He's acting too recklessly lately».  
Concrete smiled, gently pulling the reins out of his grasp before guiding her horse toward the perimeter of the camp. «Don't worry, I'll take care of him», she reassured him and spurred the horse, trotting up to Arthur who was still waiting for her on the main path.

All lined up on a higher spot, Concrete, Dutch and the others observed as Arthur and Bill set up the dynamite to the side of the railway. «I haven’t taken part in a robbery for a long time», Concrete said, her pitched voice revealing her excitement. «Can't wait to get back into action».  
«Maybe there's a reason why they keep leaving you behind, girl».  
Concrete slowly lowered her binocular and turned to Micah, who was sitting sprawled on the saddle, and gave him a threatening stare. «What do you mean, rat?»  
«Concrete, what happened to the hat I bought you?», Dutch quickly intervened before the situation could heat up too much. Everybody knew the girl didn't like Micah and she certainly didn’t try to hide it.  
Concrete turned to him, a sorry look on her face. «I… lost it in the storm, when we got here».  
«Oh, that's a pity...», he started but the neighing of a horse drew his attention.  
«We're done», Arthur informed them as he climbed on the steep path on Taima’s back.  
«Okay then, cover your faces», Dutch ordered, pulling his kerchief over his nose. «The train should be here any minute».  
As everyone covered their faces under the cloths, Arthur moved closer to Concrete. «You ready?»  
«'Course I am», the girl exclaimed, muffled from under the red fabric of her bandana, her eyes fixed on the railway. «It's just a train robbery, nothing too complicated».  
Arthur giggled, turning his gaze to Bill who ran to hide behind a boulder with the detonator just a moment before a loud whistle reached their ears. After a few minutes, the train appeared from behind the curve of the hill, blowing smoke and making the ground quake at its passage. «Gentlemen, it's time», Dutch announced as everyone put their hands on their guns.  
The locomotive passed over the spot where the dynamite was hidden. The gang was ready to spur the horses and run down the path but strangely enough the train didn't stop and serenely entered the gallery below. «What the hell? What's Bill doing?», Concrete asked pulling out her binocular to check on the man.  
Behind his hiding spot, Bill was frantically trying to set explosive off, pulling up and down the detonator’s handle.  
«The detonator is not working», she said nervously, turning to Dutch.  
«Oh, you've got to be kidding me!», he exclaimed taking off his bandana while the rest of the gang started getting off their horses. «Where did you find that moron?»  
«So now it's my fault?», Arthur replied quite offended but Concrete was already calling for him.  
«C'mon, Arthur», she said as she jumped off her horse and ran after the train with the others.  
Bending forward, she pushed hard on her legs as she rushed toward the other end of the gallery, Lenny and Javier panting at her side as they tried to keep up with the girl who was too concentrated on her target to notice the fatigue that was slowly getting to her.  
When the end of the path became visible before them, a column of black smoke was rising toward the sky from below. «The train is out!», she warned the others forcing herself in a final rush and jumped off the cliff, onto the top of a car.  
She landed on her feet but the movement of the train made her lose her balance and fall, rolling backward until she crushed on a larger body. Rising her gaze she saw Arthur’s masked face looking down at her as he knelt down, holding her from rolling off the car. «Thanks, Arthur», she thanked him as she recomposed herself and sat up. «Where are the others?»  
Still panting, Arthur turned around and nodded toward the railway behind them, where she could see Javier gesticulating angrily as he slowly stood up from the ground. «So we lost one man, uhm?»  
«Hey, over here!»  
They both turned to see Lenny’s gloved hands holding onto the edge of the car’s top and quickly crawled toward him, grabbing the boy and pulling him up to safety. «You’re okay», Arthur reassured him, giving him a hard pat on the back while Concrete helped him on his feet. «Now let’s go slow this thing down».  
«Where’s Javier», the boy asked as they all started moving toward the head of the train.  
«He fell», Concrete explained as she climbed down the roof and entered the next car, her revolver ready in her hand. She turned to Lenny and smirked under the kerchief, a hint of amusement in her voice. «It’s just the three of us now».  
Even though his face was hidden too, from the sparkle in his eyes she could tell he shared the same excitement as her. «Very well», he said, «but leave some action to me this time».  
They carefully walked inside the car and immediately found a guard leaning against the wall, facing the other way. Concrete moved aside to allow Lenny to sneak behind the guy and hit his head with the butt of his gun, knocking him out.  
Stepping over the unconscious man, they reached the next door and peeked outside. On the uncovered freight car before them, another guard was standing with a cigarette in his hand, watching the landscape that rapidly moved before him as he leaned on the railing.«Another one. You want me to take care of it?», Lenny whispered to Concrete but she shook her head and slid silently onto the car, moving behind the many crates it carried until she was behind the man. He heard the light footsteps behind him and turned around just in time to see a small body crushing on him hard enough to push him over the railing, sending him to roll down the hill. «Nice one», Lenny laughed running up to her. The girl grinned, satisfied.  
«You should have seen his face».  
«Try not to have too much fun», Arthur admonished the kids, walking past them. They were about to rebut but the man suddenly pulled out his gun and aimed at a point behind them, shooting a single bullet.  
After the initial scare, the two youths turned around and saw a guard falling on the ground with a hole in his forehead, his hands still clasped around the rifle. «You need to stay concentrated. Now let’s move, the other guards must’ve heard us by now».  
Lenny and Concrete exchanged a surprised look before hurrying after Arthur who was running head down through the cars, easily taking down with well aimed shots every guard that showed up before him and the girl couldn’t help but watch him in awe.  
She wasn’t the envious type and her own ability with the weapons was very good for her age, but her brother's skills always managed to amaze her. She had witnessed him do incredible things with his guns and sometimes she wondered if he had some kind of magical power that allowed him to slow the time down and aim more easily. Sometimes she wished she could have at least half his ability.  
Finally, they reached the locomotive. «If we don’t stop this train the boys won’t catch up with us, Arthur», Lenny told Arthur, nervously leaning over the railing to try and peek behind the train’s tail.  
«I know, just stay calm», he replied turning back to him but as he passed by the high pile of coal that was placed right behind the locomotive, a shovel appeared from behind it and hit the back of Arthur’s head. He didn’t lose conscience nor fell but the hit stunned him enough to impede him to escape the train driver, who wrapped his arms around his neck and tried to drag him toward the edge of the car.  
«Don’t you dare», Concrete hissed and walked up to the man. He wasn’t armed and clearly didn’t know how to fight so it was simple for the girl to take his arms off of her brother’s neck and push him off the train, between his panicked screams.  
«Thanks, girl», Arthur gasped and, rubbing his neck, he entered the locomotive and pulled the break.  
Screeching and sparking, the wheels started to move slower and slower until the train stopped and the three of them jumped off the car, heading back to the others who were probably already waiting for them at the end of the train. «You okay?», Concrete asked Arthur as he kept rubbing his head.  
«I’m fine. I’ll probably get a bump, though».  
«I hope there will be money at the end of it», Lenny said skeptical but Arthur reassured him.  
«All those guards must’ve been protecting something. We’ll have our prize».

When they reached the last car the others were already there, sitting lazily on their horses as they waited for them. «Are you alright?», Dutch asked dismounting, soon imitated by the rest of the group.  
Giving him a sharp nod, Concrete walked to her horse, which was still agitated for the adrenaline of the run, and petted its muzzle to calm it down. «We got some fellers holed up in this last car», Dutch informed them as everyone walked up to the train with him. «What are you planning on doing in there, boys?», he shouted mockingly but no one answered. He started pacing up and down in front of the car, gesturing as he spoke. «Listen, we don't want to kill any of you… we'll, any _more_ of you», emphasizing the last sentence, he turned to his men who all laughed with him. «I give you my word but trust me, we will».  
Finally, an angry voice could be heard from inside the car, angry but still trembling. «I work for Leviticus Cornwall», the voice said as if that information could have scared the outlaws away. «We've got orders. We ain't opening this door».  
«Seems like our friends have gone deaf», Dutch took a few steps back and pulled out his gun. «Let's wake them up a little».  
With her head resting on Aaron's neck, Concrete quietly watched as the men laughed and shot at the car, opening countless holes in its side that let the light pour outside on the grassy ground. Through the holes, she could catch a glimpse of the passengers running around as they looked for a cover.  
«Enough», Dutch stopped his men and turned to Bill. «Mr. Williamson, give Mr. Morgan and Mr. Smith some dynamite. You two boys, go blow that door open».  
Concrete took Aaron’s reins and pulled him further away from the train. Arthur and Charles took the explosive from Bill and attached it on the metallic door, lit the fuse and quickly backed up with all the others, covering their ears as they waited for the explosion. After a few seconds, the door blew open and everyone took back their weapons in their hands. «Alright, come on. Just walk on out here», Dutch shouted.  
Immediately, four well dressed men appeared on the doorway and jumped off the train one after the other, obediently following Dutch's instructions to sit on a nearby rock while the gang kept them at gunpoint. «Concrete, come check on these gentlemen for me, will ya?», he asked the girl and walked a few meters away to lit himself a cigar, meanwhile Arthur climbed inside the car with Lenny and Micah to look for valuables.  
Concrete took a rifle from her saddle and moved closer to the four scared men, pointing her weapon at them. «Good evening, gentlemen», she greeted them, charging the rifle in a swift and menacing way, amused by the surprised and terrified gazes the hostages were giving her. One of them, a young man with a shaved face and slicked hair, stared at her for a moment before moving his narrowed eyes on the closest outlaw, who happened to be Bill. «Greasy bastards, now you recruit girls too?», he tried to show himself brave but his older companions hushed him.  
Bill was about to kick him but Charles stopped him. «Leave him. He’s just a kid», he said. As response, Bill turned away and spit on the ground.  
Concrete kept holding the men on gunpoint, making sure they didn’t make any strange movement, until she notice that one of them, a man in his fifties with a gray mustache and a bowler hat on his head, kept staring at her. «What?», she asked him sharply. «Is there something on my face?»  
«You...», the man mumbled, narrowing his eyes behind the thick lenses of his glasses. «You were in Valentine a few days ago».  
Allarmed, Concrete quickly pulled her bandana higher over her face while the others turned to give her an accusatory look. «I think you’re confusing me with someone else, old man», she replied, her cheeks flaring up when, in the corner of her eye, she saw Dutch stare at her with a frown.  
«Yes, I could recognize those eyes anywhere...»  
His trembling voice, the dreamy look on his face as he spoke sent a shiver down the girl's back. «What the fuck are talking about?»  
The man lowered his gaze on the ground, staring at the void as he whispered. «So it’s true… she’s alive».  
Dutch pressed the cigar against the car's wall and moved closer to the door. «Are you guys done in there?», he shouted, visibly rattled by the man's word.  
Micah and Lenny emerged after a minute, each one holding a bag full of money and other loot. Behind them, Arthur was waving a bunch of cards. «What did you find?», Dutch asked as the man walked quickly up to him, handing him the papers.  
«Bonds. Are they worth anything?»  
Dutch took them and gave them a rapid look. «Bearer bonds», he affirmed immediately, giving Arthur a pat on his shoulder. «I think we can probably sell them pretty easily. Well done». He stuffed the papers in his satchel and gestured at the train. «Now would you get rid of all of this?»  
«The train? Sure. What about them?»  
The hostages jumped a little when they saw the two men walking up to them. Dutch stared thoughtfully at them for a moment before sharply turning around, heading to his horse. «It's up to you, Arthur. Do whatever you want with them», he said mounting up, soon imitated by the rest of the gang. «Just make sure they don't send anyone after us. See you at the camp».  
With a shout, he spurred his horse and ran away at gallop with the others, following the railway until they disappeared behind the horizon of the hill. Arthur watched them go for a moment before turning to the four men still sitting on the ground. «You need help?», asked a soft voice behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Concrete still there, looking at him from the height of her horse.  
«You still here?»  
«Should I go?»  
Arthur subtly nodded toward the eldest of the hostages. «You _better_ go. Before someone else recognizes you».  
Concrete eyes grew wide with surprise. «Wait... You heard that?»  
«I _saw_ that, too. From the train's window»  
The girl hid her face even more behind her kerchief, embarrassed, but Arthur didn't intend to scold her. Not right in that moment, at least. «Go away, girl», he told, gesturing for her to follow the others. «I'll take care of this».  
Without a word, Concrete turned her horse around and ran after the others, leaving him alone with those men.  
He turned to them rubbing his hands. «Gentlemen, it’s time for you to hit the road again and possibly forget about who you met today», he said said pointing at the car’s destroyed door. The men hurried to get up and get back on the train but when the old one with the bowler hat passed by him, he grabbed him by his shoulder. «Especially you, sir. I don’t know who you saw in Valentine that day but I assure you it wasn’t that girl».  
Arthur felt the man shake a little under his gaze but it lasted just a second, after which the he recomposed himself and stared back at him, his chin raised in a dignified pose. «Of course, sir. I apologize for my mistake», he said calmly and slid out of Arthur’s grasp to climb into the car.  
Arthur huffed and turned around, walking quickly up to the locomotive where he released the break and got the train running again, waving at the men as the last car passed in front of him before mounting back on horse and heading back to the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for any eventual mistakes you may find in this chapter. I've checked it many times before posting it but I've been pretty tired lately due to reasons... If you notice something werong in this chapter you can let me know.


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